Hopeless Gray
by SchuylerSister16
Summary: Meet Linen Davenport, a needy tribute from District 8. She's been sent to the 5th annual Hunger Games with her partner, Jaylor Hearthwind. Secrets, crushes, anger, loss, and selfishness plague Linen at every turn. Will she be able to survive the games? Better yet, does she want to survive? Only time will tell.
1. Meeting of the Minds

The Training Center shocks me, and it's not because of the enormous size. There's a station for nearly every weapon I've ever heard of. Knives, swords, spears, bow and arrows, axes, and several more that I can't name. We are the first tribute pair to arrive for the first session. Jaylor Hearthwind, my district partner, is surveying the room intently. He's 17, a bit taller than me, with brown hair and glasses. We're both nervous.

"Do you think we arrived a little too early?" Jay's question catches me off guard.

"There's no such thing as too early," I answer, nervously pushing up my glasses. A few minutes later, a pair of tributes walk through the door. The contrast between the two is enormous. The boy is tall, and muscular, with curly brown hair and eyes to match. The girl looks like a wisp in comparison, with rail-thin limbs, white-blonde hair, and sky blue eyes. They're both from District 7. I remember their outfits from the Tribute Parade. They were both dressed like trees.

"Uh, Hi. I'm Evander, and this is Ash." The boy greets, shaking hands with Jay and I.

"Nice to meet you. Call me Jay." I make a mental note to try and ally with these two.

"I'm Linny," I smile. Then I remember watching the District 7 reapings on the train. Ash's little sister's name had been reaped, and she'd volunteered. Evander volunteered for a boy he didn't even know, just so he could go to the games with Ash.

Another pair of tributes walk in, a red-headed boy and a girl with light brown hair. He's teasing her relentlessly, and it's clear she hates him. Jay locks eyes with the girl, and I hear his breath hitch. I wonder if he'll want to team up with her when the games begin. Seems like she could be a good ally.

"Name's Septimus," the redhead smirks. He shakes my hand and holds it for just a few moments longer than necessary. I notice he doesn't shake anyone else's hand. The girl's name is Gaylynn. They're from District 6. I remember seeing their reapings. Gaylynn looked murderous when Septimus's name was called. It's clear from the expression on Jay's face that he likes Gaylynn. A lot. Some very odd and dark part of my brain is unsettled by this, and I'm not sure why.

More tributes arrive, and I learn more names. Currio and Pearl from District 2. It's clear they despise each other, Pearl looks like she could kill him with no regrets. Adeline and Mitch, the cutest couple in the games, from District 12. Their hands are laced together, uncertainty written across their faces. Alto and Rosemary from District 4. They are both equally good looking, and equally confident. Before I can meet more tributes, the head trainer, who introduces herself as Marilee, calls for attention.

"You are free to try what ever stations you like. But don't ignore the survival stations. It could be the difference between life and death." She releases us to try whatever we like. I settle on sword fighting, since it seems like a weapon I can actually use. The trainer seems highly skeptical of my abilities, and I can't blame her. My arms are as thin as cotton thread. I've never even seen a sword before, let alone used one. The other tributes are approaching the other weapons with ease and grace. I probably look like a confused and awkward duck.

"Swords, huh?" The District 1 tribute appears next to me, already wielding a wickedly sharp sword. He's tall and muscular, with bright red hair and cold brown eyes that unnerve me. I nod, and choose the smallest one on the rack. I take a moment to asses the others. 13-year old Pearl, who could probably kill us all without breaking a sweat or batting an eye, is throwing knives with 18-year old Currio like a pro. They get on each other's nerves constantly. Evander is sparring a trainer with his best weapon: an axe, while Ash practices with a small hatchet. Jay is learning how to make a snare, while shooting covert glances at Gaylynn, who is busy learning knots.

"C'mon, we don't have all day." The trainer's voice forces me to pay attention, and I spend several minutes learning about how to properly grip and swing my sword. Suddenly, a brawl breaks out between Septimus and Evander. I'm pretty sure Ash has something to do with it, because Evander's yelling something about a girlfriend. Septimus punches him in the jaw, and they continue fighting. But before the trainers can break it up, Ash steps in, clearly unamused by her boyfriend's antics.

"Enough," she shrieks, shoving them apart.

"Ash, please," Septimus flirts, gesturing to her hand on his shoulder, "you have a boyfriend." She lets go of him like he's on fire, and leads Evander back to the axe station. Her cheeks are flushed crimson. The rest of us go back to our various stations, and I listen and watch the trainer for another hour before actually practicing. Sometime during my listening, I observe Jay going to join Gaylynn at knot-tying. They seem to hit off quite well, laughing and joking together. Oddly enough, I don't mind that Jay has found himself a crush. Ok, that's not true. I do mind, for some reason, but it's not like Jay belongs to me. He can like whoever he wants. I like Gaylynn too, she seems to get along well with everyone here, except Septimus, of course.

"Are you ready?" The trainer crows. I notice that all eyes have turned to me.

"Try me," I smirk without thinking. The trainer's eyes narrow, and she stands, waiting. I swing the sword at her legs. She jumps to avoid it, and brings her own sword down towards my head. My sword blocks, but just barely in time. She jabs at my stomach, I step out of the way. It goes like this for several minutes: I block, she attacks, I almost trip over my own feet. Then I feight right and somehow manage to disarm her. She doesn't even reach for the sword, but she tries to kick it up with her feet. The sword goes flying across the room when I hit it, nearly stabbing Evander in the hand. Everyone is in shock, myself included. I didn't know I could do that, whatever I just did was a complete accident.

"Nice job, tribute." The trainer seems impressed, but not that impressed. I decided to excuse myself from sword fighting for the day, and try the fire-making station. Rosemary and Septimus are already there, rubbing skinny sticks on large pieces of wood. It's clear from Rosemary's murderous expression that she isn't really enjoying Septimus's company. I haven't had much time to talk to her, but I already like her alot. She doesn't take guff from anyone, especially not Septimus. They're obviously arguing, in hushed voices so the trainer won't hear.

"What are we up to?" My question interrupts their tiny argument. Rosemary looks up, relief on her face. Septimus, however, looks much too happy about my appearance. His smile of welcome quickly turns into a flirtatious smirk. I resist the urge to run away, and sit in front of them, grabbing the materials I need.

"That was some nice sword fighting." His compliment sound like an open flirting invitation, that I foolishly decide to accept.

"Thanks." I continue working on this cursed fire-making method that starts to blister my hands.

"You were looking pretty good." I'm not sure I like where this conversation is going, but I forge ahead.

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself." He seems surprised by my returned compliment. We work in silence for a few minutes before Septimus speaks again. There's something about him that sets me on edge.

"Interested in an ally?" The question catches me off guard, and I nearly drop my stick in surprise.

"I prefer allies who don't pick fights." Rosemary snickers loudly at my backhanded comment. Septimus' smirk droops a little.

"I didn't pick that fight. Mr. Lumberjack did," he protests, "and besides, I was just talking with Ash. Nothing more."

"Lies," Rosemary snorts, "I saw you hitting on her. She was mortified." I like Rosemary even more now. I'm surprised Septimus isn't flirting with her instead. She's drop-dead gorgeous, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes.

"I was just teasing," he insists, then his tone returns to seductive. "I only flirt with girls I like. She's already taken. I assume you're not." My cheeks flame red, despite my best efforts to remain calm. I wish I was incapable of blushing.

"That's right," I mutter, intently examining my little whisp of smoke coming from the wood. It sputters out, just like my chances of winning these bloody games.

"You seem to be in the market for a partner." I know exactly where this is going, and I wish I didn't. He probably wants to be my partner. Rosemary is watching the fight, barely suppressing giggles.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," I spat, taking out my frustration on my stick, which snaps in half. Sighing, the trainer passes me another.

"I mean, c'mon. Lover boy over there isn't yours anymore," he snorts, gesturing to Jay. For some reason, that makes me angry. That small part of my brain that doesn't like their new relationship has turned into a large part of my brain.

"He was never mine." The hitch in my breath makes it clear that saying this hurts. It really does, for some odd reason. I'd really liked Jay, maybe more than even I originally thought, but I was sure the games would bring us closer together. Obviously, I was completely wrong.

"Don't worry, I don't mind being a replacement." Something about his statement sends my temper flying, and I don't fight it this time. Jackknifing to my feet, I 'accidently' kick Septimus in the face, sending Rosemary into gales of laughter.


	2. Pearl of Wisdom

I march across the room to the camouflage station, and sit down in a huff, anger still making it hard to think. Mitch and Adeline, who are also at the camouflage station, look concerned.

"You Ok?" Adeline asks. She's busy trying to paint her hand to match the bark of a tree. I angrily pick up a brush and start trying to make my hand match the bark too. Adeline's cropped red hair catches the light, and for a brief moment, it looks like her hair is made of fire.

"I'm fine." They both know I'm not fine.

"Just ignore him," she advises, adding a touch of mud to her hand. We spend the next hour in complete silence. I'm not in the mood for chatting. I watch Jay follow Gaylynn to the knives, learning how to throw and use them. Alto and Evander have teamed up, becoming fast friends who joke and laugh like they've know each other all their lives. Pearl is working with the girl from District 11 at the knot station. It's a weird relationship, since Pearl is so murderous, and this girl is the opposite. But they seem to be enjoying each other. A girl with wavy brown hair from District 5 joins me. She is a camouflage master, applying color in just the right way that makes her blend in perfectly with the environment.

"That looks really good," I compliment.

"Thanks." We sit in silence before I introduce myself.

"My name's Gianna." Her name sounds foreign to me. I've never met anyone with such a nice name.

"Nice to meet you Linny. Who's your partner?" Her face drops into a scowl.

"Sterling Crown." She points to a ginger and blond boy across the room, who is learning knives. "World's most worthless partner." She says no more, but I have to wonder if she's really right. If their both from District 5, Sterling could potentially know stuff about electronics, a useful skill in my book. I start thinking about everyone else's clear advantages over me. Everyone in this room must be at least 20 pounds heavier than me, and 20 times stronger. I just weave fabric all day, not heavy labor like some of the tributes. Even Gianna can camouflage herself well enough to last for a very long time. Not me. I'll be dead before the first day is over. That much is crystal clear to me.

"Who's yours?" I almost don't want to tell her.

"Jaylor Hearthwind." She nods in understanding, and comments that he isn't a very good partner either.

"That's a lie. He's the best partner I could've asked for!" She smiles at my defensive statement.

"That's what I thought you'd say. You guys are good friends, right?"

"Of course!"

"And you don't mind him spending all this quality time with District 6?" And right then and there, I decide that I'm thankful that he's picked a trustworthy ally. Allies will be hard to find in these games.

"Doesn't bother me," I answer, "Jay's picked a good ally." Marilee stops us to announce lunch. The whole group moves into the Dining hall to eat. I join a table with Alto, Evander, Rosemary, Ash, Jay, Gaylynn, and Septimus. At first, there's very little talk because we're all chowing down on the Capitol food. I'm squished between Evander and Ash.

"Hey guys, wanna know where I got this bruise?" Septimus starts telling them about my rage, but instead of laughing at me, everyone laughs at Septimus.

"I don't know what you expected," Jay laughs, "Linny's not really the kind to let someone piss her off without reacting."

"Yeah, you're lucky she didn't set you on fire," Rosemary adds.

"So what's it like in District 8, anyhow?" Alto's question sends my mind spiralling into memories that seem as old as a lifetime. Taking so many orders that I have to stay up all night to finish. Struggling to complete my homework and focus in school because I could've been earning bread for my family. Weaving delicate fabrics until my fingers refused to work and I became light-headed.

"It's not so bad," I lie, stuffing a roll in my mouth to avoid further questioning.

"Where do you work?" Evander asks, helping himself to one of Ash's cookies.

"Oh, I weave specialty delicate fabrics like silk and satin. Sometimes I make lace and ribbon on the side," I answer, subtly placing my hands in my lap. My hands are criss-crossed with callouses and scars from weaving day and night.

"I work on the boats as a deckhand," Alto remarks, taking a bite of seaweed bread from his home district.

"I work on the docks making nets," Rosemary adds.

"I cut trees," Evander says wryly, "it's not the most fun job." Ash's face suddenly becomes dark with worry, but quickly

returns to normal. She quietly adds that it's a very dangerous job too.

"How so?" I ask. I've barely even seen a tree. There's not a lot of greenery in District 8.

"Widow makers," Ash whispers, "they're huge branches that can kill you if they fall on you." Then I fully understand the price of love in District 7. Every day, Ash worries about Evander being killed on the job, and from her tone of voice, it sounds like it's not outside the realm of possibility.

"I make paper," she adds, her voice back to its old self.

"I fix rails," Septimus says, "also not a fun job."

"I'm a baggage handler, but some days I get to be a substitute porter," Gaylynn smiles. It's clear that she's proud of her work, proud that she doesn't have to do heavy labor every day.

"What about you, Jay?" She asks. I restrain myself from covering her mouth. Jay absolutely despises his job.

"I work in the Peacekeeper uniform factory," he says, "it's not a lot of fun, but the pay is alright." What he doesn't mention is that the pay is only good if you work their longest shift: the 12 hour overtime. In our district, most people call it the 'terrible 12, because most kids can't handle 12 hours at work and 5 hours at school. But somehow, Jay does the terrible 12 four times a week, and sometimes even takes extra shifts. He also doesn't mention that he dreams of being a chef. Not because of the endless food, but because he loves cooking something that pleases people. I've seen him make great meals out of the little food his family can afford. Once, Jay worked from 4:00 PM to 8:00 AM, which is one hour before school starts. He slept through most of his classes, but he made enough to buy his family their Christmas presents.

"Sounds interesting," Septimus comments, taking a sip of his glass of juice.

"Not really," Jay mutters, his jaw tightening.

"If you guys could be anything, even something outside of your district, what would you be?" Gaylynn question is a bit of a shock to me. I've been taught to never dream about another way of life, because there's no other way of life. My goal, until this point, was to be a designer. They make quite a bit of money.

"I think I'd be a musician," Alto answers quietly.

"I'd like to be a chef," Jay adds.

"A designer," Rosemary says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"A drummer," Evander smiles.

"I'm not sure," Ash admits, "but I'd like to live in the Capitol." Gaylynn and Septimus aren't sure either. They're all waiting

for my answer. I've never even told anyone what I dream of being, because it's so unattainable.

"I'd like to be an author, or maybe a singer." My words tumble out into the open, and I'm horrified of being judged. Instead, they ask me why, and then encourage me to enjoy music and words while there's still time.

"Mind if I join you?" A clear, confident voice rings out. It's Pearl, who doesn't wait for approval and instead squeezes herself between Jay and Gaylynn. She looks like she could be 15 or 16, but I've heard she's only 13. She has short brown hair, pulled up in a high ponytail, and somehow manages to make the training uniform look like the latest fashion. The conversation has died, since no one is willing to trust a girl from the districts most intertwined with the Capitol.

"What, afraid I'll stab you with a fork?" Pearl's well-timed joke gets the ball rolling again, and we include her in our conversation.

"Where do you work, Pearl?" Evander seems genuinely curious, and I am too. Pearl is just as thin as me, but under her slightly tanned skin, it's all muscle.

"I'm training to be a Peacekeeper," she replies. The conversation dies rapidly, who can really trust a girl who was planning on being one of the Capitol's enforcers?

"Are you guys nervous about the Games?" Rosemary asks tentatively. Everyone agrees, except Pearl, who gives a small snicker at our anxiety.

"Someone's cocky," Jay snorts. It sounds like a joke, but he's really just trying to figure out what makes Pearl tick.

"I was laughing because you guys are afraid of the unavoidable," Pearl smirks, "I've made up my mind. I want to go home. I'm willing to do what is necessary." I'm shocked by the boldness of her answers. There have been 4 victors so far. Two from District 1, one from District 4, and one from District 2. Most of these victors have been made outcasts by their own districts, and have taken refuge in the Capitol. They are despised for their actions in the games, hated for their life-or-death choices. They chose life, and their districts wished death on them.

"You seem pretty ok with killing someone," Gaylynn snips, her distaste for Pearl evident.

"I said I'm willing to do what needs to be done," Pearl fires back, matching the snarl in Gaylynn's voice. I'm astounded by this girl's nerve. She's only 13, while everyone at this table is at least 2 years older, if not 3. Girls like her get beat up back in District 8 for their snarky words.

"You're pretty good with a knife," Septimus challenges.

"That's right," she retorts.

"Would you aim one of those at me?" His question is so forward, so shocking, that I marvel at his stupidity. But evidently, nothing rattles Pearl, because her response comes just as quickly.

"If you get in my way, yes." My jaw drops so low, it nearly touches my knees.

"You'd murder him in cold blood?" Rosemary questions.

"You guys don't get it, do you?" Pearl is frustrated by our lack of understanding. The tensions so thick, I'm practically choking.

"We are here to kill! If we don't give the Capitol a good show, they'll kill us anyway. It's kill or be killed, and I intend on living through this!" There's a haunting tone in her voice. She stomps away, back to her table, snarling under her breath.

"What's up with her?" Gaylynn obviously doesn't agree.

"She's got a good point," Septimus points out, "only one of us gets to go home."


	3. Dinner With a Side of Arguing

Training ends on a high note. I finally managed to make some passable camouflage, and Jay seems optimistic about his knife skills. We exit the training center, and we wait until there's an open elevator. We board with Rosemary and Alto, who make small talk with us until we reach the 4th floor. Jay and I are alone.

"You picked a good ally," I smile, and my words are genuine.

"Thanks," he returns, "everyone thought that you'd be angry at me for wanting to ally with her."

"She's a girl I'd like have in a tight spot," I say.

We arrive on the 8th floor and are greeted by Theodosia Nightengale, our district's escort. She's pale as cotton, with wine colored hair and a ridiculous garment that I'm guessing is a two-piece suit. She starts blabbing about the Tribute Parade outfits, and how fabulous we looked, and how we'll be sure to get sponsors. I remember nothing about looking fabulous. I remember the weight of my enormous dress on me, the skirt nearly 5 feet wide. The fabric was green and black, in all sorts of different patterns, and each individual ruffled was one pattern. I'd nearly fallen off the chariot, but Jay'd grabbed me by the waist before I could hurt myself. Unfortunately, Theodosia's the closest thing we have to a mentor. She's memorized every rule of the game, and knows how the games work, but she doesn't have any real experience.

"Go get changed, and then we'll eat dinner," she instructs, shooing us down the hall. I'm in no hurry to get changed. Walking swiftly, I start pacing the room, and singing songs to myself, as I try to select an outfit. I finally settle on a simple red shift dress. When I run my hands over it, I discover it's made of satin, one of the most expensive fabrics District 8 manufactures.

" _Linen, you should get some sleep," my mother said, "you've been embroidering all night." I ignored her request and continued creating the ocean waves on the blue piece of satin in my hands. It was midnight, and I should've been getting to bed, since tomorrow was the reaping day, but I had to finish this order._

All of my memories seem ancient, and I can't help but wonder if it's best to forget.

"Linny, dinner's ready." Jay's knocking on my door forces me to hurry up and put my dress on. When I open the door, I discover that he's picked a red shirt and grey pants. We always seem to match, even when we don't plan it. We eat diner with Theodosia, and our stylists, Margaret Plume and Odyssey Carrow.

"So how was training?" Odyssey is the first to speak. He has neatly coiffed brown hair, and warm brown eyes. He's dressed in a grey undershirt, with a crimson and grey flannel worn over it, and tight black pants.

"It was fun," Jay smiles, already starting on a second bowl of tomato soup.

"Did you meet anyone?" Margaret asks. She's dressed in a thick lavender sweater and black leggings, with a big purple flower in her curly black hair that is swept up in a ponytail.

"I enjoyed meeting Alto and Rosemary," I replied, munching on a delicious grilled chicken.

"The tributes from District 4?" Odyssey asks.

"Oh I know their stylists, Baubelle Leona and Alexander Grey," Margaret adds, "they're very accomplished." I remember their parade costumes. Alto was dressed in a blue tunic and pants with nets strung over it. Rosemary was dressed the same, but her tunic skimmed her ankles, and her hair was twisted into an elaborate head dress with netting.

"We met the District 6 tributes," Jay continues, downing a glass of grape juice with one swift gulp.

"Now they could use new stylists," Odyssey comments, "I mean, what were they thinking dressing them as conductors? They looked revolting!" I almost choke on my soup at the memory of Septimus in bronze overalls enters my mind. Jay's struggling to hold back laughter, almost spitting out his water in the process, as Theodosia sighs at our poor manners.

"Lucius and Slate did definitely have a lapse of judgement," Margaret sighs, "those two boys have such limited talents."

"I also met Gianna," I grin, "from District 5."

"Now that's a girl with a good stylist," Odyssey exclaims, "Amethyst and Penelope did such a lovely job!" I agree, Gianna wore a jumpsuit covered in tiny lights, and they were even woven through her hair.

"You know who else has a good stylist?" Margaret exclaims. "The District 8 tributes!"

"Evander and Ash," Jay nods.

"They simply looked resplendent in those leaf costumes. Crystal and Radiance absolutely floored the audience!"

"But what about District 2?" Odyssey asks.

"Oh, Harmony and Icarus were so innovative," Margaret grins. She quickly turns to me and Jay. "Harmony is my younger sister. She was promoted this year from District 3 to District 2, for her astounding designs last year." Pearl and Currio's costumes were show-stoppers. They wore costumes made to look like hard stone, rough around the edges and blocky. It was so intricate, it's impossible to explain.

"Do you have any siblings?" I ask Odyssey.

"My sister, Garnet Carrow, is the District 11 female tribute stylist. My brother Dussel is too young to work. He attends the Presidential Academy."

"I think Linen and Jay looked the best of all," Theodosia interjects, causing Margaret and Odyssey to blush. Theodosia is having a servant butter her roll for her, when she begins speaking again.

"It seems you really got to know a District 6 tribute, Jay," Theodosia smiles, "a girl named Gaylynn has requested an alliance. Shall I tell Cassiopeia yes?" My heart skips several beats, and I nearly drop my spoon into my bowl of tomato soup. Cassiopeia Riversong is the District 6 escort.

"Certainly," he replies. Theodosia searches his face for more, but he says nothing else.

"Wonderful," Theodosia grins, "and Linen has a formal alliance request as well."

"Theodosia, I've told you before, call me Linny," I sigh, "and who wants to ally with me?"

"It seems that District 6 boy is interested in you as well. I believe his name is Septimus."

"I'll have to think about it," I lie.

I feel Jay's questioning eyes on me, and I somehow knock a glass of milk onto myself, and Jay, who's sitting on my left.

"Go change," Theodosia sighs. I change into a black shift dress. Lo and behold, Jay's picked a black shirt.

"What a surprise," he snickers as we return to diner. He hates that we always seem to match. The rest of diner is quiet and stiff, with almost no talking, except for Theodosia's attempts to make conversation. Jay only locks eyes with me once, but when he does, I can tell that he's pissed. After dinner ends, we sit in the living room on plush couches.

"Linny," Theodosia smiles, handing me a book, "I thought you might like this." The book is black leather, with blank pages, and it has a red pen strapped inside.

"It's a diary," she explains, "I thought you might like to write things down." I graciously thank her for the present, but I'm hesitant to write in it. Wasting pages seems like a crime at this point, but then I remember my days are numbered. The Capitol TV plays nothing but news bulletins, and talk shows about each tribute.

"Can we talk?" Jay's question startles me, up until now, he's been quietly making a bracelet out of thick string.

"What about?" He sets down the bracelet, and I graciously close my journal.

"This whole Septimus thing. I don't know if you've noticed, but he's a horrible flirt, and you're flirting back," he warns.

"I am not!" My defensive statement rings through the once-quiet living room. On the coffee table, there's a silly glass statue of a spool of thread, and I want nothing more than to throw it at Jay's fool head. I wonder what it would sound like.

"You may not _think_ you are, but you are," he continues, "and it's the talk of the training room. Everyone thinks that you're playing hard to get."

"Where'd you hear that?" Anger is surging through me like a river, but I barely manage to keep my cool.

"Septimus mostly, but Evander and Alto said they think you're smitten. I said you weren't, but I don't think I convinced them." Muttering curses under my breath, I start pacing the floor.

"Well what about you and Gaylynn?" It's clear I've struck a chord, he joins me on his feet, narrowing his eyes.

"You said it yourself, she's a good ally," he snarls, his voice sharper than a knife.

"An ally. Not someone you should be crushing on," I retort, matching the snarl.

"I don't have a crush on her!"

"Liar!" I screech, the words flying out of my mouth before I can stop them. "I saw the way you stared at her, I heard your breath hitch! You're just as smitten as I supposedly am with Septimus, you blind hypocrite!"

"You're wrong!" He takes several steps closer, his voice risen to a shout.

"Am I? Because you've been spending a ton of quality time with her! Gianna thought I'd hate you for running off with Gaylynn!"

"Do you!?" We're one foot apart. His face is red, eyes narrowed, and arms crossed. "You didn't think I'd ask that! Is Gianna right?" Jay's not much taller than me, but at this point, it's a huge difference. The insane confidence that anger gives me has left, now I feel empty and small.

"I asked you a question," he snarls, taking another step. We're almost nose-to-nose, and I may have run out of steam, but Jay most certainly has not.

"No," I whisper, my voice broken and small, like that of a timid little girl. He turns away slowly, and I feel weak at the knees.

"She doesn't want a relationship," he mutters. My hand flies to my mouth, and I suddenly wish that the last 5 minutes hadn't happened. "She told me that it's not fair to start something when it's going to end so quickly." My confidence has shattered like glass right before my eyes. Words have already started tearing Jay and I apart, and I know that I have made a horrible mistake. Unbidden tears leak out of my eyes, and I plop back down on the couch, silently crying at my ignorance and impatience. _You just had to put the nail in the coffin, didn't you?_ I think to myself, and the idea of Jay being shipped back to District 8 in a wooden coffin turns the trickle of tears into a flash flood. Jay turns back around and sits on the couch, staring at me coldly. Every time I manage to get my composure, I start sobbing again.

"I'm s-so s-sorry," I wail pitifully, and Jay bursts out laughing. Confused, the tears stop flowing, and I look to him for an explanation.

"You're a mess!" He's howling with laughter. "I mean, I knew you could get emotional but come on! It's like somebody threw a torch in a bucket of water, you just sizzle out all at once!" A small hiccup-sounding laugh escapes me.

"I'm really sorry," I giggle.

"I know," he sighs, "but that fiery temper will kill you someday. Why don't you turn in for the night."

I have a horrible nightmare. In it, I'm drowning in a sea of blood, and the only thing to save me is a wooden coffin with Jay's lifeless body in it. After floundering in the blood for a few minutes, I climb in, only to be strangled by him.


	4. Morning Person

"Linny, get up!" Jay's pounding on my door, "We have 15 minutes." That does the trick, and I practically catapult myself out of bed, and leap into the shower. Yesterday, I spent 15 minutes figuring out all the buttons, but I have no time so I just push the first one I see. The water's even colder than the spigot in District 8, but I jump in and wash quicky. There's a magical machine that dries and detangles my hair, and I'm pulling on my training clothes when Jay starts pounding again.

"5 minutes," he yells, and I hear him running towards the breakfast table. I yank my shoes on and fly down the hallway to the table, where Theodosia is freaking out about our tardiness.

"Eat something," she demands, and I grab 3 rolls and dash for the elevator. On the way down, I scarf my rolls, and we pick up Alto and Rosemary, who are both eating pieces of toast. In the few seconds it takes for them to enter, Alto manages to scarf 2 pieces of toast.

"We overslept," Rosemary explains, starting on a 3rd piece of toast.

"Linny did too," Jay mutters, and I elbow him in the ribs as I finish off my last roll. The second the elevator opens, we sprint for the training center, and arrive just in time. I check to make sure I don't have crumbs all over my face, and pick a station. I settle on snares and knots, and when I arrive, another girl is already there. She has cropped blonde hair and icy blue eyes that study me carefully when I sit down. Her expression is serious and cold.

"Good morning," I smile, "my name's Linny." Immediately, her eyes light up as if I've flicked on a switch.

"You're the first person to talk to me during training," she grins, "I guess the other tributes are scared of me."

"It's nice to meet you…"

"Jewel Prescot," she greets, "from District 1." This girl looks better-fed than the rest of us, but I have no doubt that she isn't afraid to fight us.

"So, District 1. What's that like?"

"Well, just cause I make luxuries doesn't mean it's easy work. I work in the jeweler's shop, and I make necklaces all day." I mentally note that the job seems like a walk in the park, but I wouldn't know.

"It's not an easy job," she continues," your hands get shredded by the wire and chain, and if you lose any of the stones, you're punished." Sure enough, her hands are riddled with hairline gashes and callouses, and some of those scratches look fresh.

"Where do you work?"

"Oh, I weave and embroider delicate fabrics," I answer. Apparently, my work with string and fabric isn't all for naught, because the snares and knots are relatively simple to me. I spend less than an hour at that station, and then I decide to go out on a limb, and try knives. When I reach the station, the knives are arranged on a large rack. As I reach for a knife, I hear one whiz through the air, and land a few inches above my head. A small shriek escapes me, and I nearly trip over my own feet.

"Ha! Told ya she'd freak!" I whip around to see Currio and Septimus, each armed with several knives, laughing at me. Currio is Pearl's wisecracking partner from District 2. He has darker skin, curly brown hair, and eyes that shine with mischief.

"Who do you think you are?" My voice comes out as a bitter snarl, and I march toward him, anger on full display. To my dismay, he's several inches taller than me, but I straighten up with a glare.

"Oh, you mad, District 8?" His taunt angers me even further.

"Shut up," I spat, walking past him and bumping his shoulder as hard as I can. His foot sticks out and I trip, eliciting more laughs from the two. I pop back up to my feet, anger blazing. The trainer gives me instructions and tells me to throw. I feel Currio and Septimus' eyes on me as I throw my first knife. I miss, and they laugh. I throw harder, I still miss. This continues each time until I hear Septimus and Currio whispering.

"Oh yeah, she'll definitely need me as an ally," Septimus whispers, "I mean, c'mon, she can't even defend herself!" Rage tints my vision scarlett, and I throw the knife so hard it sinks several inches into the target, but it still misses. I whirl around and stomp towards the two of them, unable to keep my temper.

"I don't need you," I screech, shoving Septimus out of the way, then turning to Currio, "and leave me alone!" And I smack Currio across the face. Immediately, he shoves me to the ground, and is about to hit me back, when Jay appears. He rips Currio off me, and hauls me to my feet, his annoyance undisguised. The other tributes are snickering at the spectacle, and so are the ever-present gamemakers.

"What the heck are you doing?" He hisses, dragging me away from Currio. I glance over my shoulder, Septimus is loudly whispering to Currio that I turned down his alliance because I'm playing "hard to get". The whole training center is listening, and Jay's grip on my wrist tightens.

"He called me out," I mutter darkly, dragging my feet so Jay has to practically carry me away.

"You're gonna get yourself killed," he spats. We walk in silence to the edible plants station, where the two kids from District 11 are sitting and learning. They both can't be much older than 13, and I silently hope that they have what it takes to survive.

"Hi, I'm Linny," I greet. The girl's eyes meet mine. She's smaller than me, with dark ginger hair pulled into a low ponytail and a smattering of freckles. She was talking to Pearl yesterday, and I can see why Pearl likes her.

"My name is Kassandra," she smiles, "but my friends call me Kass."

"The name's Ferris," the boy says. He has brown hair and eyes, and towers over Kass like a giant.

"What kind of berry is this?" The trainer asks, showing us an ordinary looking clump of purple berries.

"Nightlock," Ferris and Kass say in unison. Of course, District 11 is agriculture, so these two definitely know their way around plants.

"It's deadly poisonous," Ferris adds, warily eyeing the berries. I make a mental note, and spend an hour at the station, picking up tips from Ferris and Kass that only a farmer would know. While I'm at the station, other tributes pass me and whisper to each other. Septimus' little rumor has grown rapidly.


	5. Fight Me

"We should try something else," Jay suggests, standing up to brush the leaves off his clothes.

"What did you have in mind?" I stand with him, dusting off as well.

"Maybe hand-to-hand combat?" My stomach knots and twists. I weigh exactly 106 pounds, easy for any assailant to overpower. I can't run fast, my arms are skinny and useless, and I have almost zero pain tolerance. I get bruises from random events that shouldn't even bruise normal people, like being lightly elbowed. Less than two weeks ago, I tripped over my own feet and fell up the stairs while reading a book. Yes, I'm the very picture of athleticism.

"I'll make a fool of myself, Jay!"

"You have to try it at least once!"

"Fine," I relent, and we cross the room to the combat instructor. He's a tall, muscular tower of a man, with jet-black hair and startlingly blue eyes like ice. As we walk to the station, he's sparring the girl who I think is from from District 10. She's shorter than me, but she weaves and dodges with grace, her curly brown ponytail swinging back and forth. Then trainer swings a punch, and she kicks him in the side. Toppling like a building, he hits the ground with a thud, as the small crowd of us gasps at this girl's ability.

"Excellent move," the trainer states, hauling himself upright, "who's next?" I shrink behind Jay as he scans the small group of tributes, looking for a target.

"You there!" I flinch, but he's pointing to Alto, who obligingly steps forward. Confusion runs through my mind. Alto's tall and wiry, but he's also nearly as thin as I am.

"Nice move," I whisper to the ponytail girl as she rejoins the small clump of us.

"You're Linny, right?" I nod as I watch the trainer walk Alto and the rest of us through some techniques.

"I'm Glade," she whispers, a grin filling her face, "from District 10." We watch Alto and the trainer, who's name is apparently Argos, go at it for a few minutes. Jay goes next, and after several rematches and fresh bruises, he takes Argos down.

"That was fun." Jay looks like he's been run over by a truck, with numerous green bruises, and a split lip.

"Yeah, you really got pounded!" Jay whips around to face the tease. It's a boy with ordinary brown hair and blue eyes, and I snicker quietly. He looks like he wouldn't last 2 seconds with Argos.

"Meet Talos Shaw," Glade snorts, "my district partner." From the way she crosses her arms, narrows her eyes, and raises her eyebrows, I gather that she isn't too happy with this arrangement.

"The one and only," he quips, raising his eyebrows into a casual smirk.

"You think you'll last long in there?" I find it funny that it's Glade, not Jay who asks this question. She clearly doesn't have high hopes for him. Cheers briefly interrupt our conversation, the boy from District 1 just finished mopping the floor with

Argos. They're chanting "Ajax" over and over, so I'm fairly sure that's his name.

"I'm pretty smart, Glade," Talos fires back, crossing his arms defensively. A small peal of laughter escapes me, and Talos narrows his eyes.

"What's so funny, thread?" The odd nickname catches me off guard.

"Who gave me that nickname? Because I don't believe for a moment that you came up with something that creative on your own." He ignores my insult and gives me another annoying smirk that has me clenching my fists angrily.

"Septimus and Currio," he declared, "they say you're as thin as a thread, and weaker than one too. Personally, I think Septimus is just mad that you didn't ally with him."

"How did you-?"

"It's the talk of the training center," he interrupts, "everyone knows about you and Septimus." Shame and rage fill me quickly, and Jay tries to restrain me, but I slip through the small mob and stalk over to Septimus. He's attempting to flirt with a flustered red-headed girl, and she makes her escape as soon as I arrive. Planting my right foot directly on his knife that he dropped, I glare at him till he stands up. He takes his sweet time, rising slowly, his eyes locked with mine.

"Hello again," he drawls, less than one foot away from me. Our crossed arms are practically touching. A devilish smile appears at the corners of his mouth, and I steel myself for the worst.

"You're not very creative with you nicknames," I snarl, my voice low and deadly.

"Oh that's what you're so fired up about," he answers, "it was Currio's idea."

"I don't appreciate it all that much," I fire back.

"It's pretty fitting," he comments, sending my temper raging.

"Excuse me?" My voice turns shrill at the end, and I know that I'm about to lose my temper.

"Well, you're about as skinny and weak as one," he taunts, "and this isn't because you didn't ally with me. I figured you wouldn't. But hey, second time's the charm!" Before my temper rears it's ugly head, I notice that his voice turned bitter and resentful at the end. He is pissed about my refusal, which I plan on taking full advantage of. Taking a moment to harness my temper, I channel my rage into smearing him, and hopefully making him look desperate.

"Lemme get you a glass of water," I smirk, "cause you're sounding a little thirsty." The small crowd that has formed ripples with 'oohs'.

"Says the little girl who can't stand the competition," he fires back, subtly gesturing to Gaylynn and Jay, who turn bright red and scooch apart from each other. My blood boils to a fever pitch, and I oddly want cry and commit murder at the same time. Totally acting out of anger, I grab him by the collar, my long nails scratching his skin.

"We. Are. Not. Allies," I growl, "I. Don't. Like. You." He pries my fingers away, and I turn to walk away. He lightly sticks out his foot, causing me to fall right into his arms.

"You can let go of me, little thread," he purrs, not letting go of _me._ The crowd of tributes snickers.

"Put me down," I hiss, panic creeping into the edge of my voice. One of his arms in on my waist, the other is around my shoulders, and I've never been so embarrassed in all my life. Come to think of it, I've never been hit on by a guy in all my life. An evil idea flashes into his mind, I can see it in his eyes. He picks me up by the waist so I'm horizontal above the ground. I start kicking and thrashing in a rage, screeching at him to put me down. The laughter in the crowd has died, because Septimus has crossed some sort of invisible flirting line.

"Put her down!" I crane my neck sideways to see Pearl brandishing a knife angrily.

"Yeah, drop her," Jay demands, shoving his way through the crowd.

"Put me down," I shriek hysterically. He does eventually drop me right on Jay, who manages to catch me somehow. Septimus swaggers away, a proud smirk on his lips.

"You can put me down too," I whisper to Jay, who gently sets me down on the floor. We stare at each other for a moment, then he helps me up. We're both super awkward, staring at the ground, ceiling, walls, and pretty much everything but each other.

"You, District 8!" I look over at Argos, who's pointing right at me.

"Yes?"

"Let's see what you're made of," he crows, and Jay shoves me forward onto the mats. A crowd has formed, preventing me from making an escape. I crouch into the fighting stance he showed us, knees bent and fists at the ready. He does the same, and with lighting speed, sends a punch towards my ribs. Jumping out of the way, I scramble to dodge a flurry of fists that just keep coming. I trip over my feet and land square on my back. Air whooshes out of my lungs, and the crowd moans. Argos looms over me, about to give me a solid kick, when I buck my legs right into his face. He staggers backward, and I scoot closer to stick my foot out. Argos hits the ground with a sickening thud that reverberates through the training room. I haul myself up to see the shocked faces of the tributes, dead silence filling the room.

"Huh, it's a miracle she won," Currio snorts. The crowd erupts in laughter, and I do too.


	6. 7th Time's the Charm

I collect high-fives from the other tributes, and decide to give the high ropes course a shot. When I arrive, the red-headed girl who fled from Septimus is observing another red-headed boy climb. She's very friendly, calling out encouraging words, and cheering when he makes it to the next obstacle.

"You're doing great, North," she calls, giving him a bright smile.

"Is that your partner?" I ask. She turns to face me, smile still intact.

"Yes," she answers, "I'm Kasey." I share my name and we both try the course. It's incredibly difficult, with nets and ropes suspended from the ceiling. Halfway up, there's a devilish obstacle that makes my stomach churn. It's a set of several ropes that are less than 2 feet long, each placed about a foot and a half apart. You have to swing from rope to rope to reach the next platform. Everything else seems like a picnic compared to this. Kasey has already finished the course, and is waiting for me at the bottom.

"You've got this, Linny," she crows, unfortunately making me the center of attention. All eyes are on me, and I anxiously rub my hands together. My upper arm strength is nonexistent. I reach out and grab the first rope, leaving the platform behind and hanging on to the rope for dear life. As my arms burn, I reach for the next one and realize my problem. I can't reach. Swinging and building up momentum is my only option, but I'm losing my grip. Gingerly, I rock back and forth, then swing to the next rope. I grab just in time, and realize the rope is getting shorter. Swinging again, I reach for the next one, only to find I've fallen short, and now I'm only holding onto the rope with one hand.

"Linny," Kasey screams, drawing a crowd beneath me.

"Hold on," Jay shouts.

"Told ya she's a thread," Currio snorts, and gets elbowed in the ribs by Gaylynn. My arm is screaming in protest, and my fingers are starting to slide painfully down the rope.

"Try again!" I search the crowd for the voice.

"Swing yourself!" It's Mitch from District 12. Adeline nods vigorously. I swing as hard as I can, but I miss again, and my fingers slip. Shrieking, I land in a crumpled heap on the safety net 10 feet below me. My heart is pounding, and I struggle to catch my breath.

"Linny, are you ok?" Jay's voice gives away a shard of panic. _He's right, I will get myself killed,_ I note.

"Linny! Answer me!" My thoughts are muddled and confusing, but I manage to mumble something in return.

"She's OK," Kasey yelps, and a sigh of relief sweeps the crowd.

"I knew you'd get yourself killed," Jay snorts, hauling me to my feet. "What do you want to do now?"

"I was gonna make a hammock if you want to join me," Kasey breaks in. Jay nods and starts telling her we'd love to as the crowd disperses.

"Can't even climb," Septimus stage whispers, loud enough so the crowd hears and laughs.

"Actually, I think I'm going to try again," I declare. Septimus looks like he's seen a ghost. I jog back toward the start of course before Jay can stop me, and I start climbing up the rope ladder.

"Linny, I'm not sure that's a good idea!" Jay's warning rings sharply through the room, and everyone's eyes widen when they catch a glance of me climbing up.

"Sure it is," I call back, moving on to the single rope strung between two platforms. Jay throws up his hands in surrender, and gives me a dark look as he trudges off to hammocks with North and Kasey. I try again. I slip and fall again. And I continue to try until lunchtime, when Jay demands I come down.

"Hold on a sec," I yell, and I begin my 8th attempt on the hanging ropes. I make it to the final one rope, swing as hard as I can, and my left hand gets to the platform.

"Oh my gosh!" My shriek startles Jay, who instinctively glances at the safety net, lights up in a grin.

"You made it!"

"I made it," I screech, and I let go. At this point, it's just easier to take the fall to the safety net. I load up my plate with food, and join Rosemary and some of the other girls. The guys have assembled their own little party, and the 12 of us girls don't mind sitting together.

"I saw you on the ropes course," Rosemary smiles.

"Takes falling to new heights," a blonde girl snickers. "I'm Jonquil Nelland. District 9. I farm all day."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Linen," I smile.

"Aren't you that girl that Septimus won't ever shut up about?"

"Yeah, that's probably me," I sigh.

"You don't like him, do you?"

"No!"

"I was just asking," she snorts. I'm getting tired of having to tell people I'm not madly in love with Septimus, and no, I don't have a thing for redheads.

"So Ash, how's things with you and Evander?" It's Rosemary who asks. A chorus of giggles rises from the table, the guys whip around to study us for a few moments, and then return to their discussions.

"We're doing all right," she smiles, a touch of sarcasm, "I mean, what's more romantic than learning how to wield a hatchet?" We laugh for awhile, but keep eating. Only Jewel and Pearl eat like normal people, but they both pile tons of food on.

"The sweet bread is so good," Kass moans, stuffing another in her mouth.

"Have you tried the seaweed bread?" Pearl's working on her 5th roll, she's got a thing for seaweed. I'm partial to the fancy lemon-vanilla cookies, in fact, there's a whopping total of 6 on my plate.

"So what's up with you and Septimus?" I glare at Jewel, but quickly smile again.

"I'm the one who's getting picked up," I snort, the table bursts out laughing.

"Really though," Rosemary smiles, "are you going to become allies?" Septimus has obviously overheard, he's nudging

Currio, and most of the guys are shooting covert glances right at me.

"Nah," I smile, "I think it's just gonna be me, Jay, and Gaylynn. Yeah?" Gaylynn nods. "Well, I guess the pressing matter of a certain redhead is out of the way. What's next?" Septimus continues to stare at me for a few moments as we discuss how adorable Mitch and Adeline are, and it's really starting to bug me.

"Do you need something?" I ask, leaning between the tables to ask.

"Well, they seem to be talking about me a lot," he snorts.

"They were just wanting to know about our alliance," I smile.

"So we are allies?"

"Nah," I answer, turning back around to enjoy my plate of roast chicken. He doesn't bother me again. Meanwhile, something about the guys table has changed, and I get the feeling they aren't being very friendly.

"Linny, I loved your reaping dress," Kass comments, reaching for yet another sweet role. After her 3rd trip back to the buffet line, she just took the whole basket.

"Thanks," I return. "My Grandmother made it for me." My dress was very vibrant compared to the other girls. It was eye-popping red, with t-shirt length sleeves, and a boat neckline.

"Well yours was nice too," Pearl says to Kass. Kass and Pearl both wore simple swing dresses that hit them at the knee, with only one layer of limp fabric. Pearl's was olive green, Kass's was grey, but both were very flattering, despite the rather drab colors.

"I think Ash's dress was a real show-stopper," Jewel notes, we unanimously agree with her. Ash's dress was a snowy-white strapless dress that lightly skimmed her ankles. I hear angry words being exchanged at the guy's table. Soup being slopped into Evander's lap. More shouting ensues, until Ajax gets a bowl of pasta to the face and starts yelling. The guys mistrust of each other suddenly explodes into rage.


	7. Let's Spice Things Up!

Before we can react, they're on their feet, shouting and brawling like maniacs. I scream as a plate of food sails towards my head. I dodge the plate, but not the food, and spicy orange sauce hits me right in the chest. It's so hot, I gasp before releasing a small screech.

"No one talks about our partners like that!" Jay is pissed, shoving Septimus right into a puddle of grape juice. Tables, chairs, and various capitol food items are flying through the air, the yelling has risen to a fever pitch. Girls are screaming as the food finds targets, but most of us just stand dumbfounded, unsure of what to do.

"Don't you ever call her that!" Evander is roaring like a beast, he hurls a chair right at Septimus, who ducks quickly. Kass screams in shock as a bowl of hot soup splatters all over her torso. Jewel is frantically trying to break up the brawl, Currio accidentally hits her in the shoulder with a gravy boat, the contents spill down her back. Pearl gets a pitcher of orange juice sloshed all over her hair by an overeager Ferris. Consequently, she hits him in the head with it and starts hurling food with Kass. Ferris sprawls on the floor, and unconscious or not, he's gonna have a huge bruise when he gets up.

"We have to stop this," Gaylynn yells over the din. "Or they'll send in the Peacekeepers!" She's spattered with tomato sauce that looks like blood. Beside me, Glade shrieks as a bottle of un-capped salad dressing hits her in the back of the head and completely soaks her hair and shirt.

"Quit it!" But my yell has no effect. Even Jay continues brawling with Ajax, though he's not making much progress. I feel helpless as I watch the chaos around me, more food item ricochet off the walls and the other tributes fight and dodge. It seems nearly every boy is brawling with one another, and I scream as Ajax punches Jay so hard he crumples to the ground.

"C'mon girls," Jewel screams, "we've got to stop these idiots from killing each other!" And so we leap into battle, attempting to pull boys apart. Kass is dragging Ferris by the arm away from Currio, who's being pulled by Pearl. I dive between Ajax and Jay, and start screaming at him to back off.

"Out of my way," he snaps, and tosses me aside like a rag doll. Bouncing across the slick tiles, I come to a stop several feet away, unable to catch my breath. Gianna is successfully dumping food into the trash with Glade, and they make sure the boys can't get more food from it.

"Stop it," Rosemary yells, trying to rip Alto off of Talos. Suddenly, Peacekeepers pour into the lunchroom, yelling commands, and wielding stun guns.

"On your feet! Hands in the air," one of them barks. The guys slowly cooperate, raising their hands and staring at their feet. Everyone is completely covered in food, from Adeline sporting chunks of potato in her coppery hair, to an enraged Ajax covered in white sauce. Septimus has clearly gotten the worst of it, he's coated in various food items, and also has a bloody nose. The guys not staring at the floor are glaring at him.

"What happened here?" Marilee is beyond angry at us.

"We don't know," Rosemary stammers as sauce drips onto her shoes. "The guys just started fighting."

"They were throwing chairs," Kasey mumbles, trying to wring some sort of juice out of her hair.

"And food," Adeline mutters, picking potato pieces out of her hair.

"Currio threw a gravy boat at me," Jewel snaps, gesturing to the huge spot on her back.

"Ferris dumped orange juice on me," Pearl snarls, pointing at Ferris, who is struggling to stand upright and rubbing his head.

"We tried to stop them," Gianna explains, her hair is coated in the same orange sauce that hit me.

"Who started it?" Marilee snaps, ignoring us for the time being.

"Evander and Septimus," Sterling mutters, staring at his feet.

"You two again," Marilee snaps. "I thought I told you there'll be plenty of fighting in the games!" Evander mumbles an apology, Septimus stares at her definitely.

"You twelve are going to clean this up," Marilee commands.

"But not all of them were involved," Jonquill protests, covered in unidentifiable food items.

"Who wasn't involved?"

"Crayson and Mitch," Jonquil retorts. "They got out of the way as soon as possible." The two gingers nod.

"They're covered in food," Marilee barks.

"We're all covered in food, in case you didn't notice," Jonquil snaps. Everyone is slightly taken aback by her forwardness, but Marilee continues.

"Anyone else?"

"North wasn't," Kasey pipes up. We all nod in agreement. He'd been getting more food when it started.

"I wasn't," Talos protests.

"Liar," Glade yells, "I saw you dump a full bowl of soup on Alto!"

"Sterling wasn't," Gianna points out.

"Actually, he threw salad at me," Ferris retorts, his hair has pieces of lettuce sticking out of it. We argue some more, until the girls are permitted to return to return to their quarters to clean ourselves up for 15 minutes. I ride up with Gianna and Adeline.

"Look at us," Adeline giggles. She points to our reflections, and I laugh all the way to the eighth floor.

"What on earth is the matter with you?" Theodosia looks scandalized.

"Food fight in the lunchroom," I laugh, strolling towards my bedroom.

"Please tell me you weren't involved," she wails, fretfully wringing her hands.

"Nope, just a casualty of war!" In a few minutes, I'm showered and dry, and I head back downstairs. The guys are just now leaving the lunchroom, still spattered with food.

"Where are you going?" They stop dead in their tracks to face Marilee.

"To get cleaned up, ma'am," Jay states.

"Oh no you're not! You get to stay in those disgusting clothes for the rest of the day!" A chorus of groans and protests rise up, but Marilee orders them to return to training. It's a funny sight to see. The guys trickle back to their female partners, who aren't pleased to see them. Evander looks like a puppy in front of Ash, who is unbelievably angry. Gianna and Glade are chatting with each other while ignoring their sheepish partners. Jewel and Ajax don't speak, and Pearl pretends like Currio doesn't exist.

"What in the name of Panem did you do?" I snap at Septimus, who manages to look smug while being covered in food. The bloody nose has thankfully stopped.

"We were talking about you and Ash, and things got a little heated," he flirts. _They were talking about me? Incredible,_ I think.

"Unbelieveable," I spat, turning to the ropes course.

"Are you mad that I was talking about you?" He calls, as I climb up the rope net. "Because I assure you, I had nothing but compliments." Something in the pit of my stomach tells me Septimus is a liar, and I attempt to ignore him.

"Liar," Jay snaps, striding over from talking to Evander. I quickly climb back down, fearful that I'll have to break up another fight.

"Not again," I protest, throwing myself between them. They press closer together until I'm trapped.

"You owe me an apology," Jay snarls, a scowl marring his normally somber expression.

"For what? Hurting your feelings?" Jay clenches his fists.

"No, for calling me a bad boyfriend," he snaps.

"Oh, you mean that! Well you're _clearly_ leading Linny and Gaylynn on, so I had to say something," he smirks. I feel the string that holds my emotions together snap, and I can't keep quiet any longer.

"THAT IS IT!" They both jump apart as my temper explodes.

"I've had it with you," I scream at Septimus. "I don't like you! You're a jerk! You start fights! And you won't shut UP ABOUT ME AND JAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!" The entire training center is staring at me in disbelief. The faintest trace of a smirk is on Jay's lips, but other than that, he stares at Septimus coldly.

"Linen, I was just kidding," Septimus stammers.

"Don't ask me again," I snap. "And don't ever talk about me again."

"Fine then," he relents, turning to walk away. I grab him by the shoulder to get his attention.

"One more thing," I demand. "Apologize to Jay right now!" He mumbles a haphazard apology, then leaves before I can say more. Jay and I stand there awkwardly, until he finally speaks up.

"You shouldn't lose your temper like that," he warns, but there's laughter in his eyes.

"I'm sick of this nonsense," I snort, turning back towards the ropes course. "And I'm sick of you guys getting into fights."

"Hey look, that was all Septimus's doing," he explains, climbing up with me.

"Yeah, why were you discussing Ash and I?" I grunt, swinging from rope to rope till I reach the platform. "I've never actually made it this far."

"Well about that...Septimus brought up the subject of girls, and one thing lead to another and…" he answers, avoiding my gaze as he struggles across the course.

"And what?"

"Well, he thought it would be smart to bring up the subject of Ash while Evander was getting more food, and when Evander got back, he panicked. He started yammering about you, and then I told him to shut up for one second about you-"

"You did?" I'm several feet above him, lying horizontally on two long pieces of rope, but I can't help myself from seeing his reaction.

"Yeah," he says, grinning up about me. "I've caught him yammering about you a bunch. Anyway, he told me to shut up, and then Ferris cracked a joke about Ash. Evander flipped, Ferris blamed Septimus, Septimus dumped his drink in Evander's lap, but it got all over Ajax. Long story short, food started flying, but before that, Septimus said some not very nice things about you and Ash." By this time, we're both back on the ground, since Jay paused to complete an obstacle every time he wanted to say something.

"Out of curiosity, what did he have to say?" Jay turns slightly pink as I laugh quietly.

"I'd rather not say," he laughs nervously. "But if you're really curious, you could ask the others."

"You don't have to stick up for me all the time," I say

"I'm your partner," he reminds. "It's kind of my job to have your back and stick up for you. So, what do you wanna do next? Hammocks?"

"Nah, I was thinking of trying the wounds station," I smile, and trot over to an area with several training dummies, all sporting nasty cuts.

"Come to learn something?" The trainer is a small, thin woman who studies me carefully. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes though, and something about her makes the hair on my neck stand up.

"Yes," I smile. "I know how to sew, and I was hoping to learn something new."

"Well, feel free to try any of our test dummies," she smiles. I start working on one with a particularly nasty shoulder gash, and to my horror, when my needle enters the dummy it lets out an unearthly scream. I scream too, and jump back like it's possessed.

"It screams?"

"It's all part of the training," she explains, gesturing to a small screen showing the dummy's vitals. "And you're losing blood every time you stop to think." She's right, but as I try to stitch the wound closed, I learn a new fact about this dummy. It can talk, and it does often, begging me to stop and let it die. The screams aren't very loud at all, but I flinch every time, and so do the tributes at nearby stations. 2 minutes tick by, and I'm almost finished, but my hands are shaking so badly I have to stop. Covered in fake blood and whimpering, I can't bring myself to pick up the needle. _If this was real, they'd be dead,_ I think, subconsciously rubbing my hands on my face. When I look at the screen again, my face is streaked with blood.

"Hey Linny, maybe you should take a break," Jay suggests, walking over from the hammock station.

"But they'll die," I whimper.

"It's just a dummy," he insists.

"Hold it!" The trainer, who's been absent-mindedly watching me this entire time is suddenly between Jay and I. "She needs to finish this, and she also needs to learn to cope with the pain of others."

"Well, this is a little harsh, huh?" Jay's clearly upset by the trainer's attitude.

"At least it can't thrash," the trainer quietly notes. That stuns Jay into silence.

"Keep going," she tells me, and shoos Jay away. I finish in another minute, and though the stitches are ragged, she assures me that it was a good first try.

"You'll need to be able to do this quickly," she warns me. "Because not only will they beg, they'll thrash and kick."

"Well what should I do to help them feel less pain?" She gives me a look of utmost pity.

"Give them a stick to bite," she remarks. I continue to work on other dummies, until she shows me one with a slashed open chest.

"This'll take a lot of thread," I remark, and I'm about to thread the needle when she grabs my wrist.

"Take a closer look," she demands. "What do you see?" I wish I didn't have to look. I can see ribs in several places, and honestly, I'm having a hard time distinguishing between the blood and skin that I can sew.

"The gashes are too deep and wide," I stammer. "Why would you show me this?" She turns and looks me dead in the eye.

"Because not everything can be sewn back together. Sometimes, you've just got to keep the thread in your pocket, and let them have their last moments in peace." I nod blankly, but my mind is reeling. I'm not entirely sure I could just back off and let someone die.

"What did you say your name was?" She smiles softly in response.

"Saffron Alexandrius," she replies. "Before I became a trainer, I was one of the capitol's most elite doctors." Her name isn't outlandish like the other citizens of the capitol, it's just right.

"Hey, you finished," Jay smiles, but it slips into a frown when he sees the dummy's chest. "Hate to break it to you Linny, but no amount of thread is going to fix that mess." I smile anyway, and tell him what Saffron told me.

"Well, she might be onto something," Jay says, leading me away from the station of blood and suffering. The afternoon passes, and nothing of note happens. I steer clear of Septimus, and glance elsewhere when he tries to meet my eyes. Not a single tribute visits the wound station, I guess my struggles frightened them off. I learn to make a hammock, among other things. Finally, we are dismissed, and Jay and I ride up to our floor in silence. We're not angry at each other, we're just too tired to talk, and we stay quiet until dinner.


	8. Sew Nervous

"Ajax Winnow." Standing tall, he swaggers towards the assessment room, still smirking at us. The doors slam shut behind him, and the room relapses into quiet murmurs.

"What are you going to do?" I ask Jay, who's anxiously rubbing his bracelet. Today is assessment day, and Jay's usual smile has been replaced by a somber frown. Last night was spent alternating between screaming at each other, and trying to come up with strategy. It wasn't very successful, and I ended up going to bed with a raw throat from screaming.

"I don't know," he mutters. My heart sinks. Back home, Jay could think his way out of anything. Now, he seems almost paralyzed. I find myself subconsciously fiddling with my token. It's an empty wooden thread spool, on a necklace of braided red and black twine. Jay made it into a necklace when we arrived in the capitol, so I wouldn't lose the spool. Glade and Gianna sit beside me, wearing nervous smiles.

"That's a pretty token," I say to Gianna. It's a white cotton hair bow, with a pattern of tiny gold lightning bolts.

"Thank you," she smiles. "It was a birthday present."

"Jewel Prescot." Jewel confidently strides into the assessment room, a cheerful smile still lighting up her face. Her silver arrow necklace swings back and forth, almost brighter than her smile.

"I like yours Linny," Glade says. "What does it mean?"

"It was the first thing I bought with my wages when I started weaving," I explain. "A spool of the nicest red embroidery thread I could afford." They nod, but I can tell they don't understand. The embroidery kit my grandmother gave me was full of thread in dozens of different colors, but they were very low-quality and difficult to work with. My work suffered as a result, so I spent months replacing my thread, and barely keeping my money. But overtime, I built up a wealthy clientele, and the day after the reaping, I was scheduled to meet with one of District 8's top designers.

"Your token is nice," Jay says to Glade. I nod at the pin depicting a tiny sheep.

"My mother gave it to me when I was born," she grins.

"Currio Aspenwhim." Breaking off his smack-talk with Pearl, he swaggers into the assessment room, smirking all the way. I walk over to Pearl, who is casually leaning against a table.

"Hey there," I smile. She says nothing in response, but I forge ahead anyway.

"Where'd you get you token? Is that a real pearl? How'd you get a pearl if you live nowhere near the ocean?" She holds up her hand to silence my questions about her gold necklace, with a single pearl hanging off of it.

"It was in a shop window back in my district. I've been saving my money for it since I was 10. I've never seen the ocean, but I do like this pearl." I'm shocked at her answers, but I admire her determination to own one item that brings her joy.

"Pearl Dayton." She stands quickly, her eyes bright with excitement.

"See ya," she smirks, and struts towards the doors, radiating confidence. The doors swing shut behind her. Most, if not all of the snark and bravado has left the room. Except for Septimus and Evander, most everyone is relatively quiet.

"You'll get the highest score? Doubtful," Alto snorts. He and Talos haven't gotten along at all since they met, and they've been arguing almost non-stop since the food fight.

"Throwing pointy sticks won't impress them," Talos counters.

"Oh really? Can you throw a spear from 50 feet away and hit the bullseye?" Rosemary groans and buries her head in her hands, sick of the bickering.

"Will you two just shut up?" Jay spats, clearly frustrated with their antics.

"North Westergard." The tall ginger stands up, and after assuring Kasey he'll be fine, hesitantly walks in the room. Now Kasey is a bundle of nerves, pacing back and forth and mumbling things to herself. Immediately, all the girls rush to comfort her.

"Don't worry Kasey," Glade says.

"Yeah, you'll do great," Gianna adds.

"Don't fail," Jonquil snickers. We shoot her dirty looks, and continue to reassure Kasey that she'll do well.

"Kasey Nettlehorn." Turning white as a sheet, Kasey nervously walks through the doors. And so it goes. We sit and talk with the other tributes for a while longer, and I reassure everyone that they'll do great. Evander gives Ash a quick kiss before he enters. I chat with her for a few more moments, then she is called in. Jay goes white as a sheet when her name's called.

"You'll do great," I say. Ever since Kasey was called in, Jay's been chatting less and less. In fact, his face is the color of gruel.

"I still don't know what to do," he mumbles.

"Just do your best," I remind him. "A score doesn't define you." He snorts, we both know that our very lives could depend on the next 10 minutes.

"Jaylor Hearthwind." Mechanically, he stands up and troops towards the doors. He says good luck as the doors slam shut, and I suddenly remember I'm being assessed too. A wave of nerves and adrenaline hits me like a brick, and I sink to my knees. I feel sick to my stomach, and the room starts to wobble before my eyes.

"Whoa there," Glade says. "You've been so worried about everyone else that you've forgotten to be scared." I nod, inwardly panicking and screaming.

"You're going to do amazing," Adeline reassures, kneeling on the floor beside me. "We know you will."

"Linen Davenport." My knees shaking, I walk through the doors and into the assessment room. A panel of gamemakers are seated above me, eating food and sipping wine. I lock eyes with the head gamemaker, Adonis Winterfall. He's not very imposing at all, he's rather thin and tall like a light pole. But something about the way he stands and the way his eyes settle on me sends my stomach churning.

"You may begin, Miss Davenport," he says. I scan the room intently. I know I can't have any more than 10 minutes to show them my stuff. In the corner, there's a dummy with a nasty wound and a sewing kit. Dragging the dummy in front of me, I take a look at the wounds. One gash on the ribs, a deep stab wound on the thigh, and a long cut on the arm. Taking a deep breath, I thread my needle and begin to sew. I hear surprised sounds from the other gamemakers. Theodosia warned me that I would have to be no less than perfect if I was to show them a weapon-free skill. She also warned me about Winterfall.

"His traps make the games exciting, but they're somewhat...sadistic," Theodosia said. "I don't know if you were aware that the ankle trap from last year was designed by him." I shudder at the thought of it. Last year, Paisley Bonnet, a girl from District 8, managed to survive the opening bloodbath. One day later, she stepped in a snare that wrapped around her ankle, and left her hanging from a tree. The trap also knocked over a tracker jacker nest. Long story short, Paisley died slowly and painfully. A few more silent minutes pass, and I glance at my stitches. They're perfectly even, and pulled nice and tight.

"I'm finished," I say, gently lifting the dummy to show my work. The gamemakers begin scribbling notes on their clipboards.

"Anything else, Miss Davenport?" Something about Adonis Winterfall's voice chills me to the bone.

"No sir, that will be all," I say, my voice clear and level.

"You may go, Miss Davenport," he says. I trudge out of the room, head held high, and glad it's over.

 _Later…_

"Hurry up!" Theodosia waves Jay and I over to the sofa in front of the tv. I sit between Jay and Margaret, nervous about the events to follow. The scores will not be shown for another 3 minutes, but Theodosia makes us sit and wait.

"What did you do?" I ask Jay. Theodosia refused to let us discuss it at the table.

"The hand-to-hand combat simulator," he says. "I think it went well. What did you do?"

"I sewed up a particularly nasty wound," I say. Theodosia's eyebrows raise ever so slightly, but she says nothing. Suddenly, the screen stops playing announcements, and everyone turns towards it. The anthem of Panem plays as headshots of each tribute and their scores appear. Ajax is awarded a 9, to no one's surprise. Currio and Jewel receive 8's. Pearl also gets a 9. North and Katie are awarded 6's. Alto and Rosemary get a 7 and 6 respectively. Sterling and Gianna get 5's. Septimus has 7, while Gaylynn gets a 6. Evander and Ash both pull 7's. I hold my breath as Jay's picture flashes on screen.

"A seven," Odyssey gasps. And then my picture appears. _Oh my gosh I'm going to get a 3,_ I think. I reflexively grab Jay's arm in fear.

"A six," Margaret squeals. Jay and I leap up from the couch with a whoop. He throws his arms around me, and we laugh as we enjoy a hug. Predictably, most everyone after us scores 6 or below. When Glade only gets a four, I let out a shout of protest.

"You saw her fighting Argos," I say to Jay. "She was incredible!"

"At lunch, Talos told me she has a bad knee," Jay remarks. "If she's not careful, Talos said it'll suddenly start hurting her." The tv shuts off, and Theodosia congratulates us on our scores.

"You'll be up bright and early tomorrow to get ready for interviews," she reminds. "Off to bed with both of you." I quickly breeze down the hallway, when Jay suddenly stops me. I wonder if we're about to have another shouting match, but his eyes are bright, and he's wearing a big grin.

"What is it?" I ask, casually leaning against the wall.

"You did a good job," Jay smiles. "You should be proud."

"Well you aren't so bad yourself, mister 7," I tease.

"Are you ready for interviews?" He asks.

"I think so," I smile. "It'll be kinda fun to get all dressed up. Margaret says my dress is really pretty."

"You're not nervous?"

"Heck yes! Everyone in Panem will be watching us," I laugh.

"I'm excited too," he admits, eyes twinkling with laughter. "And a little nervous."

"Well, good night Linny," he says. To my complete surprise, he wraps me in a tight hug.

"Thanks," I murmur. He lets go of me, and enters his room, smile still filling the hall. Walking into my room, I pull off my clothes, and put on a soft cotton nightgown. Climbing into bed, I somehow manage to fall asleep, only to be woken by terrifying nightmares. Blood and thread spools are featured prominently, and I don't remember what they were about, but I don't want to go back to bed. The clock reads 3 AM, so I grab my journal and a blanket, and stumble out into the living room. Jay is sleeping on the couch, with the tv and all the lights on. I sit in a small leather armchair, attempting to stay quiet. Unsurprisingly, he wakes up with a start when my journal hits the floor.

"What time is it?" He mumbles. Jay's wearing shorts and a t-shirt, wrapped up in a sheet like a circles still haunt his lower eyelids, and his eyes are bloodshot.

"3 AM," I hiss. "Go back to bed."

"Can't," he whispers. "Bad nightmares." I nod, setting down the journal.

"How long have you been out here?" He sits up and smiles a little at me and my question.

"Theodosia went to bed at 11, so about 11:30. I think I fell asleep around midnight." As I rearrange my blanket, trying to get comfortable, he suddenly shields his eyes.

"Please tell me you're wearing clothes," he mutters.

"Yes," I chuckle, "but they're rather thin." I move to sit beside him, and we resolve to watch tv. It's all ridiculous news about fashion and frivolous things, but we watch for hours. The next thing I know, I'm being shaken awake by my prep team. Theodosia is angry at us for sleeping on the couch. Not only that, but at some point during the night, I layed down, and Jay's arm was around me. That would've been fine if we'd woken up sooner, we could've laughed about it and pretended like it never happened.

"Oops," I stammer.

"Hurry up, Linny!" Forsythia is eager to begin. "There'll be time for love later."

"But we're not-"

"Get moving dearest," Basil quips. "It's interview day!"


	9. Interview, What Do I Do?

"Twirl for me, dearest!" Margaret commands. I oblige her request carefully, the silver kitten heels I'm wearing are a new challenge to twirl in. The full mint green skirt of my off-the-shoulder dress ripples and flares out in a whirl of satin and tulle. Though I didn't ask for it, the dress is exactly what I wanted.

"Put these on for me, love," Margaret instructs, handing me a pair of white satin elbow gloves to complete my ensemble. Taking my hand, she graciously leads me to the backstage area, where all the other tributes are waiting. Everyone is dressed their best, and it's a sea of color.

"Well darling, there's Jay," Margaret points out. "Best of luck. Remember to do what Theodosia said!" I thank her, and carefully glide over to Jay, the way Theodosia taught me. He's chatting with Crayson Lyle, who is dressed in a green shirt, black slacks, and black bowtie.

"Hi guys," I smile, standing beside Jay. Both seem to be in a slight shock at the sight of me, and I admit, the makeup and fancy clothes do make me look way different.

"You look great," Jay stammers.

"Thanks! You do too," I compliment. Jay's dressed in a dark grey suit, with a teal shirt and a black tie. His hair is neatly combed on one side, and he seems to be a lot peppier than usual.

"Why are you the same height as me?" Jay's question is a valid one.

"Heels," I explain, lifting the hemline of my dress to reveal Margaret's "secret weapons".

"That's why all the girls are so much taller," Crayson notes. He's right, most every female tribute is suddenly the same height as their partner, although some stand on wobbly legs. In some cases, they're even taller, Pearl's gold ankle boots have made her slightly taller than a disgruntled Currio. And I find myself analyzing her outfit: a black t-shirt dress that hits her at mid thigh, and those incredible ankle boots.

"Linny! You look amazing!" Adeline walks over with Mitch on her arm. She's wearing a royal blue skater dress, with a belt of fabric roses on the waist, and a sweetheart neckline. Dressed to match, Mitch wears a navy blue shirt, black pants, and black bowtie. They both look incredible.

"Thank you! You look amazing," I return. Then, we're being told to line up by district, and I realize I'll have to go before Jay. As I line up, I pass Septimus, who is wearing a red pinstripe suit.

"Lookin' good," he compliments.

"Thank you," I reply coolly, ignoring him until he's forced to line up behind Gaylynn, who waves hello. I wave back, and admire her strapless maxi dress. It's the color of rust, which would look bad on most people, but it looks killer on Gaylynn.

"Hey, you look nice," I whisper to Ash. She's dressed in an off shoulder lavender dress that stops at her knees. It contrasts nicely with Evander's deep purple shirt and black bowtie.

"Thanks," she whispers back. Then, the night begins with Thorn Rookwood taking the stage. He's the best entertainment host in the capitol, well-known for his avant-garde ensembles. Tonight he wears an all-white suit, but with a purple silk scarf tied around his neck.

"Ladies and gentleman, let's meet the tributes," he calls, the crowd exploding into cheers.

"Jewel Prescot of District 1!" Jewel's sky blue strapless bandage dress and white heels earn her a compliment from him, and her easygoing nature wins the crowd over. Ajax and his devil-may-care attitude is a crowd favorite. Currio and Pearl bring down the house with their cutting comments and sarcastic natures.

"So Pearl, What do you have to say about your odds of winning?" The crowd is eager to hear her answer, and they go quiet in anticipation.

"I'd say 100%, Thorn. I'm 50% smarter and 50% braver, so add those up!" All of City Circle is roaring with laughter and cheers, we barely hear the buzzer go off. North and Kasey are both a little reserved, but Thorn makes them seem thoughtful and profound. Kasey in particular opens up the most, her pale blue a-line dress looks impressive. Alto and Rosemary chat it up with Thorn, always with just a hint of sarcasm. I love Rosemary's dress, it's forest green, with a fishtail skirt and a sweetheart neckline. Sterling and Gianna are both shy, but Gianna, In a pale peach skater dress, really stands out in comparison. Gaylynn is up next, and suddenly, I really wonder what she'll say about Jay. Thorn asks her standard questions, what her favorite food is, and then it goes south.

"So Gaylynn," Thorn says. "You're looking absolutely ravishing tonight. Is there anyone here who might be your special someone?" My stomach knots in two. Jay's face is slightly pink, and I have a feeling it's going to get worse.

"Sort of," Gaylynn says. "But he's really more of a friend." I wince, Jay's been friendzoned in front of all of Panem, but I'm also relieved. Before Thorn can pry the details out of her, the buzzer goes off. Septimus swaggers over to Thorn, confident as ever. I fear he'll say something about me, as my dinner threatens to make a reappearance. He establishes an easy banter with Thorn, and the crowd seems to be enamored with him.

"So Septimus, you're a rather handsome guy," Thorn begins. "Surely you've got someone who's interested in you." My heart is pounding so hard, I'm sure everyone can hear it. Jay is not watching me, but glaring at Septimus.

"He had to screw it up," Jay mutters, crossing his arms.

"Well, there's this really sweet girl," he replies. "She keeps acting like she hates me, but you know how girls are!" Jay is now giving me a funny look, as I start swaying in place. I think I'm going to faint. Everyone backstage is looking at me, and I wish the ground would just swallow me up.

"Do tell us her name," Thorn pleads. "We're dying to know." _This is where and how I die_ , I think, _Backstage, and of embarrassment._ I grab the wall for support.

"Her name's Linen," Septimus smirks. "Linen Davenport." The buzzer sounds just as the crowd begins to comprehend. _I'm dead,_ I think, _dead of shame_. Ash takes the stage, and I'm fairly sure she gives a tear-jerking interview, but my head is spinning with shame and rage. Evander's interview is a blur as well, but I think the crowd likes him.

"Don't panic," Jay hisses. "Do what Theodosia told you."

"Linen Davenport!" The crowd erupts into cheers as I take the stage, waving and smiling, my dress appearing to float as I

walk. I take a seat beside Thorn, and I decide that if I do something stupid, I'll just hurl myself into the audience.

"Regal and witty, Linen," Theodosia said. "Make sure they know you're a standout." Thorn asks me several basic questions, but I can tell he's dying to ask about Septimus.

"So Linen, is it true that you may be in love with Septimus?" Whoop, there it is. Suddenly, I'm quite pissed that all anyone ever wants to know is about Septimus. Quite frankly, he's wasting my interview time.

"I'm most definitely not, Thorn," I say coolly. "I turned down his alliance request on the first day, and have been disinterested ever since."

"Well then," Thorn says, obviously surprised by my answer. "Is there someone you actually are interested in?"

"Yes, but he likes someone else," I blurt. All of City Circle is in a complete uproar at the thought of a love triangle, while my mind scrambles to catch up with my mouth. _What have I done?_ I think, hoping and praying that Jay doesn't hate me after this. Thank God, the buzzer sounds just as Thorn is recollecting his thoughts, and I take my place onstage. Evander is on my left, he gives me a flash of a frown, before returning to a calm smile. Jay walks onstage, he smiles and waves like an old pro. He and Thorn shake hands, and Thorn asks him more basic questions. Jay tells a witty anecdote about the perils of eating too much that has the crowd in stiches.

"It seems love is in the air tonight," Thorn grins. "Jay, we're all dying to know if you've got a special sweetheart. Don't you folks want to know?" The crowd screams assent, until Jay is forced to say something. My mind is reeling again, because for once, I don't have the slightest idea what I'm going to say. That's the one thing about Jay that sets me on edge: he's never very predictable.

"That's a tricky question Thorn," Jay admits. "I haven't really chosen yet." The illusion of Jay's innocence in all this romance drama nonsense has been shattered, and I find my jaw dropping. Closing my mouth quickly, I gather my thoughts in time to hear Thorn's final question.

"Choose? Between who?" I glance at Gaylynn, who has turned slightly pink. My face on the monitor shows a slight blush too, and I fear it's a dead giveaway.

"You've already met them Thorn." The buzzer sounds just as the audience bursts into shouts of shock and confusion. Jay walks over to my side, and we lock eyes. His are blank and unreadable, so I direct my attention to Jonquil. She looks very nice, her black dress is indescribable, but I can't focus. Crayson gives a funny interview, then Glade does too. Talos tries (and fails) to be witty, Ferris is goofy, Kass is quiet but amusing, and Adeline and Mitch give back-to-back romance interviews. Before I know it, the night is over. Jay and I sit in the same car, with Gaylynn and Septimus. Oddly enough, no one speaks. We ride the elevator to the eighth floor, and still no one speaks. Theodosia congratulates us, then sends us off to bed. Jay is still dead silent, even though we brush against each other on the way to our bedrooms. Finally, I can't take it anymore, before he enters his room I grab him with one gloved hand.

"Choose?" He just stops and stares at me, blank expression and blank eyes.

"Someone else?" Crimson blooms on my face, and I realize we're not talking because we cannot make each other understand why we said what we said. We both have our reasons, selfish or not, and justifying them will be difficult.

"Make the right choice," I counter, terrified about what will happen to our friendship if he chooses incorrectly.

"Be careful with your heart," he warns. "It's liable to get broken." With that on the table, we both just stare at each other, awkwardness filling the hallway.

"You panicked," he says in a low voice. "I know you did."

"At least I'm honest," I snap, automatically on the defensive. Instead of getting angry at me, he just sighs.

"I'm going to bed," he yawns. "See you in the morning Linny." I nod, and we both enter our rooms. My gown falls to the floor in a heap of silk. My nightgown has vanished, replaced by a silk pajama set. It slides on quickly, I crawl into bed, and begin a sleepless night.


	10. Game On

"Time for you to go, love." Margaret points to the tribute plate in the corner of the launch room. I nod, mechanically walking over to it. But before I step on, I throw my arms around her.

"Thanks for everything, Margaret," I murmur. She whispers a teary goodbye, then I step on the plate. Glass encloses me, and the plate slowly begins to rise. Finally, it stops moving, and I look around at my surroundings.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the 5th annual Hunger Games begin!" The voice of world-class announcer Kezia Rookwood breaks my thoughts, but I scan the area. The cornucopia is surrounded by marshland. At the mouth of the horn, there's standing water of unknown depth, but further away it turns to mud, then dry land. Beyond it, it's all medow, not a single tree in sight. About halfway between the mouth of the horn and my plate is a clear plastic pouch, with multiple spools of thread. I must have it, someone could just take it out of spite. The gong sounds, and a leap off of my plate, darting for the sewing kit. I hear Jay shout my name, but I ignore him.

"Outta my way!" Ajax knocks Pearl aside, but she stays on her feet, sprinting to the mouth of the horn. I reach down and grab a flannel blanket. When I glance up, the careers have already found their weapons. Several have already begun to take flight. Rosemary is streaking off to my left, a single loaf of bread in her hand.

"Let's go!" Adeline and Mitch are already sprinting away from the insanity. I sprint forward, and dive for the kit, skidding on the slippery mud. When I glance up, Alto is spearing Talos through the neck like a fish, a cruel glint in his eye replacing his usual kind glow. Glade whirls around in time to see it, her face clouds with shock and rage. Instead of panicking, she runs to Gianna's side.

"Linny come on!" I ignore the yell, still watching the bloodbath. Jewel pulls an arrow out of Ferris's heart, the blood swirls on the water's surface. Kass is screaming curses at Jewel, who casually fires an arrow at her. Kass dodges and runs off, tears streaming from her eyes. Sterling is dead, probably the victim of Pearl, who is already dashing off with multiple knives and supplies. Gianna screams as Currio stabs her in the side, before he can do more damage, Glade come to the rescue. She has a brief fistfight with him, before hitting him so hard he crumples to the ground. Glade grabs Gianna's hand and struggles to pull her away quickly.

"Linen! Now!" Gaylynn is shouting for me, I grab the kit and run to her side. She grips my hand tightly.

"We need to leave," she says. I turn around to survey the scene. Evander, Alto, and Ajax have teamed up. Ash is standing in front of Evander, and ducks down to retrieve her hatchet she dropped in the water. Septimus throws a knife right at Evander's chest, but the knife ends up in Ash's neck instead. Her blue eyes fill with shock as she slips into the water, blood pouring from her neck. In a matter of seconds, Septimus has cut her life short, and spurred Evander into a rage.

"NO!" Evander is screaming and yelling, a heart-breaking sound filled with horror and pain. Wincing, I watch Ash float gently on the surface of the water, her hand reaching for Evander's. It falls to her side, and I know she is dead. Swiftly, Evander takes her necklace and puts it in his pocket. He whirls around to face a guilt-riddled Septimus, who's trying to plead his case.

"Evander, it was a-!"

"You'll pay for this, Septimus!" Panic is his eyes, Septimus runs off, Evander, Alto, and Ajax hot on his heels. Evander is screaming every foul word I've ever heard, and a few new ones. Panic seizes the remaining tributes as Jewel begins firing arrows into those already on the run. Jonquil gets one right in the shoulder, she stagers with a long scream but keeps running. Crayson isn't at her side, as he normally would be.

"C'mon," Jay shouts. My heart is breaking as we dash off into the meadow, Ash didn't deserve that at all. Gaylynn and Jay are breathing hard as we swiftly move through the tall grass, our pace unrelenting. Jogging becomes the norm after several minutes, none of us can flat-out run for that long. Still, my breathing is labored and ragged, like I've just inhaled a lungful of smoke. We jog for what seems like hours, and yet the landscape doesn't change, and no trees come into view. Panting, Gaylynn asks if we can stop. Immediately, I sprawl on the soft grass, worn out and gasping for air.

"What do you have?" Jay asks, wiping his sweat-streaked face with his rain coat sleeve.

"One slightly damp loaf of bread," Gaylynn says. "And a tarp."

"I've got a sewing kit and a flannel blanket," I add.

"I got a backpack," Jay says. His face is bruised and cut up, no doubt he had to fight someone for it. He opens it up and pulls out crackers, a knife, another tarp, and an empty water container. Suddenly, I hear the dull boom of cannons firing.

"I counted 6," Gaylynn says quietly. One for Talos, Ferris, Sterling and Ash, but I'm not sure who else could be dead. Anyone, I guess. The image of Ash being stabbed replays over and over in my mind.

"So what's the plan?" Jay's question jolts me back to reality at he climbs up a boulder and surveys the meadow.

"We need to get out of this meadow," I say. "We're too exposed here." There's not a tree in sight. Perfectly flat ground with the occasional boulder dotting the waist-high golden grass that flutters gently in the breeze, the meadow has no means of concealment.

"There's nothing but meadow," Jay sighs.

"Lemme see," Gaylynn says, and scrabbles up the boulder to stand beside him. She almost loses her balance, but he grabs her hand quickly. For several long moments they do nothing but hold hands and stare at each other. My crappy relationship instincts may not be good for much, but they do tell me to leave them alone. Gaylynn confirms Jay's disheartening statement, and he graciously assists her in climbing down.

"I say we head that way," Jay suggests, pointing directly ahead of us. We all agree, and spend the rest of the day trudging onward.

"Where are the trees?" I wonder aloud, but they ignore me for the most part. I've always been more vocal than everyone else around me. Humming quietly to myself all the while, I struggle to keep pace with the others, even though my legs are just as long. Jay is carrying everything that will fit in our backpack, and is panting from the exertion. I refuse to let him carry my sewing kit, it's clutched tightly in my right hand. Thank God it's not raining, I think, peering up at the ugly gray sky. Soon, it starts to get dark, and we have no choice but to set up camp at the base of a huge boulder. Gaylynn starts ripping up grass to create a cushy mattress, I start securing a tarp to serve as a roof, and Jay starts looking around for sticks to start a fire. In his quest, he begins to wander away, while Gaylynn and I chat.

"Never in my life did I think this would happen," Gaylynn admits, piling more grass on the ground.

"I know what you mean," I respond. "It all just happened so fast."

"I mean, it's pretty scary to watch the reapings, but I never thought I'd get picked," she grunts, forcefully ripping the soft golden grass.

"I took out a ton of tesseraes," I explain. "My name was in the reaping ball nearly 10 times."

"Oh wow," she sighs. "I only took out one tesserae. My parents wouldn't let me take out anymore."

"Jay had his name in 25 times," I say in a low voice. "He did it without telling his parents."

"He's so generous," Gaylynn smiles, arranging the grass. "He always seems very noble to me." She blushes slightly, and I have to wonder if she likes him more than I thought.

"That would be Jay," I agree. "Never leaves anyone behind." Silence follows as I struggle to find a way to hang the tarp. To my delight, there's a spool of clear plastic string in my sewing kit, and I use that to tie the corners of the tarp to the crags in the boulder. Gaylynn sets down the second tarp on top of her mound of grass underneath the hanging tarp. It should properly keep the rain off. Jay returns with 2 sticks that we use to prop up the bottom of the hanging tarp, since starting a fire could attract unwanted attention. By the time we are all settled, the moon has begun to rise.

"It's freezing," Jay shivers, and he's correct. My breath comes out in little puffs, and I pull out the flannel blanket. Hilariously, it's only big enough for 2 of us. Gentlemanly as ever, Jay insists Gaylynn and I keep the blanket while he keeps watch.

"Anthem should be any minute," Gaylynn mumbles from under the blanket. Sure enough, the capitol anthem begins playing. The powerful music breaks the stillness of the night as we jump out of our shelter to watch. After the seal of Panem flashes in the sky, we wait anxiously for the tributes. The first face to flash on screen is Kasey, filling my heart with ache and sorrow. Sterling is next, Rosemary and Alto are still alive. Ash comes next, below her face is the name Ashlynn Whitleigh, and I feel guilty that I never learned her full name. Crayson appears, then Talos and Ferris. But as the seal of Panem appears one final time, something happens. The anthem cuts in and out, as the seal flickers. Suddenly, before the anthem ends, the seal disappears. Bright red text appears in the sky.

"System failure," Jay reads. "Running full systems reboot and test in 3...2...1…" Suddenly, torrential rain pours out of the sky, like a bucket that's been knocked over. With a yelp, I dive back into our tent, which is thankfully waterproof. After much wiggling and yelling, we all manage to get settle. However, now my pants are soaked through. They end up around my ankles, and under the mattress tarp so hopefully, they'll dry at some point. Luckily, the gamemakers have provided us all with undershorts, so no one has to be seen in their underwear.

"What happened?" Gaylynn has to yell to be heard over the dull roar of rain. Jay has the presence of mind to set the water container at the edge of the tarp, raindrops plink musically into its open mouth. He opens his mouth to say something, but a loud boom of thunder cuts him off.

"System test? What does that mean?" Another roar of thunder shakes the ground beneath us, and I burrow further into the blanket. I hate thunder and lightning.

"Maybe they're testing all of their weapons, one at a time," Gaylynn shouts. The reality of her guess is frightening. If the gamemakers are testing all their weapons, it means that they are no longer in control of this arena.

"I'll keep watch," Jay offers. "You guys get some sleep."

"Good night," Gaylynn says. And with that, we quietly nestle down as thunder and lightning crash on all sides.

I awake with a start, and I hear Jay whispering to Gaylynn. It must be her turn to keep watch.

"Are you gonna be alright? I can take your shift if you want." Such a gentleman, I think.

"That's alright Jay. You don't need to keep sacrificing things for me. I can do it."

"I know, I'm just being nice." Oh that's all, I think bitterly about all the times that we spent screaming at each other.

"Well you don't have to. Take Linny's shift if you really wanna be nice." Yes that's an excellent idea, I mentally agree.

"But why can't I just take yours?"

"Cause I wanna take my shift, but Linny would love you if you took hers."

"You tryin' to set me up with her?"

"Not necessarily." By this time, my mind has spiraled into about 50 different directions, I wonder what Gaylynn's angle is.

"Yes you are."

"I am. But really, you should consider it." Oh my land, I think, she is trying to set us up.

"Uh, we're in the middle of the Hunger Games. There's not a lot of time left."

"So? All the more reason to do it." Dead silence follows as my mind continues reviewing all of the possible ramifications of the conversation I just heard, including several that will never happen.

"I'm going to bed," Jay sighs. "Good night."

"Good night." Several minutes pass, Jay falls asleep quickly, the rhythm of his breathing lulling me to sleep. Just when I think I've gotten away with eavesdropping, a voice breaks the silence.

"I know you heard all of that," Gaylynn whispers, as my heart nearly stops beating. "But don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."


	11. Our Trio's Down to Two

Unfortunately, we positioned our shelter so the sun shines right in my face. Half blind, I crawl out of the shelter with no pants on to find Jay sitting on the boulder. Dark circles still make their presence known under his eyes, but he seems rather calm.

"Hey," he smiles as I awkwardly stand up, stretching my arms towards the sky.

"You took my shift," I say, bending down to grab my pants, which have mysteriously disappeared from under the mattress. "Where are my pants?"

"I have them," he laughs, gesturing to the boulder beside him. "When it stopped raining, I thought I'd put them out to dry." My pants hit me in the back of the head, cold but no longer soaked.

"Thanks," I grunt as I struggle to put them on. I end up stripping off my shoes so I can tug them on. Climbing onto the boulder beside him, I ask him why he took my shift.

"You looked tired," he explains.

"Gaylynn was tired too," I retort. "Why didn't you just take hers?" Silence follows, I can practically see Jay's mind struggling for a plausible answer.

"I wanted to see the sun rise," he says at last. Recalling last night's whispered conversation, I almost burst out laughing at his ridiculous excuse. Shortly after, Gaylynn wakes up, inquiring about the location of her pants too. For some reason, she refuses to unwrap the flannel blanket around her legs until her pants are back on. Maybe she just wants to be modest. Breaking camp is relatively easy, we fold the tarps and stuff them in the backpack. Gaylynn scatters the grass mattress to hopefully cover our tracks. For breakfast, Jay gives us 3 crackers each. I long for the hearty food of the Capitol as I discover the crackers have no flavor at all. Jay points in the direction the sun rises, and says we should head that way. Hoisting the backpack on his shoulders, Jay leads the way as we trek across the meadow, the sun shrouded in ominous clouds. I hum tunes under my breath to the rhythm of my steps. Gaylynn quietly sings a little song that sounds like a child's tune. It mentions a ring around rosies.

"What are you singing?" I ask. "I've never heard that song."

"It's really old," she explains. "It's more like a rhyme. You hold hands with someone and spin in a circle when you sing."

"How's it go?"

"Ring around the rosies, a pocketful of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down," she chants.

"Speaking of down," Jay interrupts, stopping us from moving forward, "look down." Less than a foot away is a canyon, with a small creek flowing at the bottom. It must be 50 feet deep. In front of us, there's a narrow path that leads downward, into the heart of the canyon.

"Look on the other side," Gaylynn exclaims. Following her gaze, my eyes come to rest on what looks like a forest. Jay insists that we climb down, so we carefully pick our way down the canyon, careful not to send rocks showing down on one another. In a few minutes, we reach the bottom, and I instantly feel trapped. I look to the other side, which is as smooth and sheer as a wall.

"Guess we'll just keep walking," Jay says. We stop to fill our water container, then press onward. Gaylynn stumbles, then falls flat on her hands and knees.

"You alright?" Jay helps her up, ever the gentleman.

"Yeah," Gaylynn laughs. "I just tripped on a rock." Unfazed, we continue our quest, scanning the walls for a way out. Again, Gaylynn trips and falls, and struggles to stand back up, even with Jay's aid.

"Clumsy me," she jokes. Something is not right. Gaylynn was incredibly graceful during training, she never faltered. Now she acts as if her legs are made of metal. I casually walk beside her, and study her carefully. Her lips press together with every step, and her eyes water. Chalky white, her skin seems to have lost it's healthy glow. And every time she puts her right leg down, her movements become small and careful. It's also obvious that she's favoring her left leg.

"Gaylynn, are you ok?" She and Jay turn around to study me.

"Yes," she says. "I just tripped."

"What's wrong with your right leg?"

"Oh for God's sake, Linny. Her leg is fine," Jay snaps. "Let's keep moving."

"No," I insist. "You're favoring your left leg. Every time your right foot touches the ground, you wince."

"Shut up Linny, she probably just bruised it when she tripped," Jay protests.

"No way," I shoot back. "Something's wrong with her leg." Jay and I bicker back and forth until Gaylynn steps between us.

"Enough," she yells. "There's something wrong with my leg." She plops down on the ground, and starts taking off her shoes, then her pants. Her upper right thigh seems to be swollen, then she reveals why. A two-inch wound, leaking blood and pus, sits on her thigh. Jay lets out a strangled gasp at the sight, and backs away slowly.

"Who did this to you?"

"Septimus," she mumbles. "We both wanted a backpack." Jay curses under his breath. I sit beside her and examine it. The wound is to deep to be a slash, Septimus must've plunged a knife into her. Clearly, it's infected, and there's nothing I can do about that. However, I think I can sew it up.

"I can fix it," I declare, pulling out my kit. "But the skin around it is raw and inflamed, so it's gonna hurt. Bad." Gaylynn begs me to just leave it be.

"If we don't fix this, you'll bleed out," I snap. "Should've told me sooner." I begin threading the needle, and order a bewildered Jay to find her a stick. Moments later her returns, and I pass it to Gaylynn.

"What's this for?"

"You bite it," I explain. My needle is threaded, and I'm ready to sew.

"Jay, sit on her legs," I command. Wordlessly, he obeys.

"Now, your job is to hold still," I explain. "This isn't fun, but if you don't keep still, I won't be able to close it." She nods

blankly, covers her face with her pants so she can't see, and puts the stick between her teeth.

"You ready?" A muffled noise of assent is all I need. Taking a deep breath, I put the needle in her skin. Muffled shrieking follows, but she remains still. Time seems to slip by slowly as I sew, the screaming doesn't stop, and neither do her muffled pleas to take a break. My hands shake, but I make rows of tight, even stitches. Finally, I'm finished, and I tie off my thread. Gaylynn removes her pants from her face, which is streaked with sweat and tears. Exhausted, I gently put away my supplies.

"Can you walk?"

"No," she moans, so we trudge on, Gaylynn supported between us. Snails could outrun us, but neither of us wants to

leave her behind.

"Do you hear that?" Gaylynn is craning her neck to see behind us. Water, a churning flood of it, is hurtling through the canyon toward us.

"Flash flood," Jay screams. "Run!" Instead of dragging Gaylynn, he simply picks her up, and we run forward.

"Look," I yell. "We can climb up there!" Sure enough, on the side of the canyon, the wall has a treacherous path that snakes upward. It's our only option.

"Go," Jay screams.

"You go first! You'll need to pull us up," I scream back. Jay starts clawing his way up the path, I follow, then Gaylynn. The water reaches us just as Gaylynn is less than 5 feet up. Sharp rocks start cutting my fingers to shreds, but I continue to scramble up as quickly as I can. Finally, I reach the top, but my hands don't reach the ledge. In fact, they're about 6 inches short. There's no way I can climb up, the wall is sheer and smooth.

"Linny," Jay yells. "You'll have to jump. I'll catch you!" His arms dangle over the side.

"Ok," I screech.

"1...2..3!" On 3, I launch myself upwards, toward his outstretched hands. For a heart-stopping moment, I fear he won't be able to catch me. His hands grab mine, and he hauls me up. A few moments later, Gaylynn is counting down with him. Her left leg propels her upward, and time seems to slow to a crawl. It wasn't enough, she's going to come up short. Jay launches himself forward so his torso hangs over the side, and I frantically grab his waist. Gaylynn's hands grab his, we slide forward, my feet struggle to find purchase. Finally, we stop sliding. _This is where and how we all die_ , I think, tightening my grip on Jay's waist.

"Pull us up," Jay yells, I can see Gaylynn's eyes shining with fear.

"I can't," I shriek. If I try to, I'll lose my grip on Jay and they'll both fall. My arms aren't strong enough to pull them up, and I fear that if I shift too much, all three of us will fall.

"You have to," Jay screams.

"You're too heavy," I cry. "I can't hold you for much longer." My feet, inch by inch, are scooting towards the cliff. If they slip, it's over for all three of us. Time stops again. We are at a stalemate, no matter what we do, we cannot win. The next few moments will determine who we lose, and Gaylynn knows it. She locks eyes with me, and they shine not with fear or desperation, but with selflessness and understanding. Suddenly, I know what Gaylynn will do, and there's no way to stop her.

"Jay," she cries. "I'm sorry."

"No," he screams. "You can't! We can pull you up!"

"No you can't," she says.

"Don't you dare let go of my hands," he croaks.

"I have to," she smiles, peaceful and serene.

"You can't do this!"

"Yes I can Jaylor." Her use of his full name brings the direness of this situation to light.

"I need you Gaylynn!"

"Need is a strong word. You'll be fine."

"But I thought we-"

"We like each other Jaylor," she says. "But this is going too far."

"Don't let go of my hands!" Quite honestly, I'm in awe of the sheer amount of chemistry between them that is just now deciding to make an appearance.

"Take care of her Jaylor! She needs you now more than I do," she cries. "Goodbye." With a mighty effort, Gaylynn wrenches one hand away and blows him a kiss. She lets go, and plummets into the water.

"No!" Jay launches himself forward, as if he wants to join Gaylynn in the deadly water. Screaming, I struggle to haul him up and away from the cliff. Really, I'm being selfish. I just lost Gaylynn, I don't think I can bear losing Jay too. I grab his arms and drag him, inch by inch away from the cliff till he elbows me in the gut. With a yell he runs toward the cliff. Diving just in time, I grab his legs so he trips and falls just a few feet short of the cliff. He screams bloody murder at me, curses fly out of his mouth in a rage as I try to keep him from going near the edge.

"Let go of me Linen!"

"I won't!"

 **(Looks like we're picking up the pace now! More death will follow, so stay tuned!)**


	12. Fire & Lightning

"We have to leave."

"No," Jay spats. We've been sitting by the edge of the cliff for what seems like hours, and I'm pretty sure it's been at least 2. Jay won't leave, and I've been pleading with him for several minutes now. I let him have his time to mourn and reflect, but we don't have the luxury of spending days weeping and bemoaning Gaylynn's death.

"We're too exposed." My stomach churns with familiar hunger pangs that seem to be my most reliable companions.

"Shut up," he snaps. Frustrated, I stand up and start pacing. Jay and I are too equally matched in wits and stubbornness to give in easily. We could go at it like this for hours before we even come close to a decision. It's not the first time one of us has refused to budge.

"Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you," he mutters disdainfully, rage and hatred discoloring his voice.

"You resent me then," I shoot back. Clearly, I've struck a chord, he actually turns to look at me.

"She let go because you couldn't pull her up!"

"We were at a stalemate, Jay! Someone was going over the edge no matter what we did!"

"You could've pulled us up!"

"If you hadn't dived forward so much, maybe I could've! I was the only thing keeping you from tumbling off the edge!" Silence follows, I've backed Jay into a corner and he knows it. Oddly enough, he stops mentally attempting to get out of the corner and resumes staring blankly at the canyon. I scan the surrounding meadow for danger, but it seems we are safe for the moment. Except I don't feel safe, all I want to do is get to that forest.

"Please Jay," I beg. "I don't feel safe out here."

"Too bad," he spats, gazing out at the canyon again.

"Why can't we just get up and walk?" I'm hopping mad now, Jay's stubbornness is driving me insane. He's got no answer for me, and I climb up on a boulder about 10 feet away. If Jay's going to make me crazy with silence, I'll make him crazy with sound. Childish yes, but it's the games. I can do what I want.

"Ring around the rosies, pocketful of posies," I yell. The effect is instantaneous. Jay tenses up like a spring, ready to jump at any moment.

"Shut up," Jay shouts.

"Ashes, ashes, we all fall down," I finish. Something stirs inside me, and I continue to scream the little song at the top of my lungs, until Jay is at the base of the boulder. He screams at me to stop but I can't, and I won't.

"Pocketful of posies," I scream.

"Linen please," Jay begs. "Stop singing that song!" He grabs my wrist, I see the pain in his eyes, and I realize I'm breaking him apart. My voice cracks, falters, then fails completely.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, he still does not let go of my wrist. Climbing up on the boulder beside me, he asks me why I would sing that.

"I don't even know," I stammer. "I think it's cause it reminds me of her." Rough and worn, his hand fits mine like a glove, he still hasn't let go. We sit in total silence, I think of the funeral song of District 8. It's a very stirring, yet haunting song. Speaking of how every life has value, whether they are young or old, male or female, weak or strong, this song has brought many a tear to my eyes.

"Be they young or old, a story of them must be told," I sing softly. "Boy or girl, they mattered in this world." Tears spring to my eyes, the reality of losing Gaylynn has finally hit me. Wailing like a child, I can barely catch my breath as I sob so hard I fear I'll choke. I start to hug my knees to my chest, curling in on myself out of fear and sadness, but Jay pulls me into a hug. We're both shutting down internally, I can tell as he holds me tightly. Neither of us speak, even my crying goes quiet. Eventually, he lets go of me, I pull the flannel blanket on and wrap myself into a small ball of sadness. The sun is dipping low in the sky, and Jay graciously starts setting up the shelter. A cannon breaks the stillness of the night, Jay hangs his head when he hears it. _I think I'll go to sleep,_ I decide.

 _Next Morning…_

Heat. The sun is rising. But the sun is orange, the air tastes charred, this is no ordinary sun. Heat seems to be roasting me like a piece of steak, I wonder if the gamemakers have turned up the temperature. Jay is shaking me hard, telling me to get up. Drowsy, I crawl out of our shelter and stare at the sky. Fire has come to the meadow on the other side of the canyon. Beastly waves of red and orange devour the soft grass, belching acrid black smoke that clings to my lungs as I take a breath. Panic should be spurring me onward, but I've never seen such a large and untamable force before. Quite frankly, I can't take my eyes off it.

"Linny, we need to move now!" Jay frantically shoves our supplies into the backpack. Entranced, I watch the wind gently blow hot coals across the canyon that immediately catch the grass on fire. In the few seconds it takes for Jay to pack, the meadow on our side has turned into a full-on inferno. We speed off towards the pine forest that is now shrouded in a veil of ash and smoke. Breathing becomes difficult as the smoke invades my lungs, causing Jay and I to wheeze and cough uncontrollably. Eventually, we outrun the fire, but my lungs feel torn up and damaged. Even though we haven't purified it, Jay and I guzzle our meager water stores. The water feels incredible on my ravaged throat, like medicine would. A cannon fires, breaking the eerie silence. 3 minutes later, another follows. The fire must've devoured more than grass. The sky looks even dirtier and more disgusting than before as the night-black smoke fouls up the dull grey clouds.

"I'm glad I woke you up," Jay rasps, the smoke has clearly ravaged his throat. He's streaked with ash and dust, as if he's been rolling on the factory floor back home.

"Yeah," I croak. "Did you stay up all night?"

"No," he admits. "I was so tired I just carried you into the shelter and laid down next to you."

"Who was the second cannon?"

"Gianna," he coughs. "I hope Glade is ok." A cannon fires again, the third one in the last 10 minutes. Jay hauls himself upright, and forces me to stand up.

"We need to get to that forest," he states. "Let's move." We decide on the pace of a walk, since damaging our lungs even more won't do us any good. The sky must be tired of the dirty smoke, soon it begins to drizzle. Hoods on our rain jackets keep us dry, but not warm. Hunger, which I forgot about during our flight from the beastly fire, makes my stomach feel like it's gnawing on my insides. We climb one of the few hills in the meadow, and a nasty surprise awaits us at the bottom. Ajax, Evander, and Alto are camped at the bottom, sitting around a fire under a portable canopy. Jay drops to his stomach, and yanks me down with him.

"If they find us, we're dead," he hisses, slowly crawling forward. The tall grass conceals us, but too many loud movements will give us away. We creep forward until we're in earshot.

"You find him?" Ajax's loud voice rings out like a bell through the grass, nearly stopping my heart.

"That demon got away from me," Evander snarls. "When I get my hands on him, it won't be quick!" I assume he's talking about Septimus, he's the only one in these games that could be considered a demon.

"Yeah well, I'm sure he'll turn up eventually," Alto remarks.

"Check out that smoke," Ajax says.

"Must be a big fire," Evander notes.

"Well, hopefully it'll roast some of the competition," Alto snorts.

"Alto, where's your girlfriend at?" Ajax and Evander roar with laughter.

"Shut up, Ajax! She's not my girlfriend," Alto spats. "And besides, I told her to get lost before the games started. She was real steamed but hey, what else could I do? Alto tries to put Ajax on the spot. "Where's Jewel at, huh?"

"Geez Alto," Ajax snorts. "You know Jewel. She does what she wants when she wants. How could I stop her?" Jay starts inching even closer, but I motion for him to stop.

"You know Gaylynn's dead, right?" Evader and Alto say yes.

"Bet it broke poor lover boy's heart," Alto snickers.

"Yeah, his one true love," Evander adds. Jay is shaking with rage beside me.

"Well, at least Linen won't have to play 3rd wheel," Ajax remarks.

"Oh yeah, I bet she's all over him," Evander jeers. "She was so mopey and lovesick during training, a blind man could've seen it! Jay was too distracted by Gaylynn to pay any attention to her."

"Think she'll kiss him?"

"I don't think she even knows how," Alto laughs. Jay and I stealthily retreat, crawling back down the hill, and giving their camp a wide berth. As soon as we're far enough away, I mutter that those three are a bunch of idiots.

"Only because they made fun of you," Jay smirks.

"Hey, you weren't being a saint when they called you out," I shoot back. Walking a few minutes more, we accidentally stumble upon a snare. It's perfectly crafted, with one huge rabbit caught in the trap.

"I'm taking this," I decide, cutting the rabbit loose and tucking it under my arm. We continue to troop toward the forest in relative silence. The sky is rumbling with the beginnings of thunder. Lightning streaks through the sky, and strikes where Jay was just moments before.

"It must have a targeting system," Jay yells. "Run!" Spurred on by panic, Jay grabs my hand and we start sprinting. My legs are going as fast as they can, but I can practically feel the lightning at my heels. Lungs burning, Jay forces me to keep this breakneck pace, even though I'm wheezing and coughing so hard my eyes water. Suddenly, Jay tackles me to the ground, as lightning strikes where I was just moments ago. The forest is still off in the distance, and I'm pretty sure we won't make it in time. Jay crawls towards a boulder, and I follow him, as thunder crashes so loudly I feel it rattling my bones. We crouch underneath it, as lightning cracks and thunder roars loudly. And as quickly as the lightning began, it vanishes. As if by magic, the sky fades to a cloudless blue.

"You alright?" Jay is stretching his arms as he stands up.

"Yeah, just a little spooked," I say. "I hate thunder storms." We continue trudging towards the forest, Jay passes me another tasteless cracker. No sponsor gifts at all. Theodosia is good at convincing people that we're winners, but even she can't possibly turn weeds into flowers.

"Do you remember that time I knocked over your embroidery box during lunch?" With a simple question, the memory floods my mind. I can practically taste the cafeteria food.

"Yes," I grin. "I'd never been so angry at someone in all my life."

"You screamed at me," he laughs. "Told me to go bother someone else. It was kinda funny, actually. You were a little ball of rage."

"Everyone thought I was nuts," I muse. "You looked scandalized, and very apologetic."

"It was an accident," he jokingly protests. "You've gotta admit, putting it right where my leg could bump it was not a good idea." Relapsing into silence, I try to remember something about Jay.

"Do you remember when I got lost on my way to a client?"

"Yeah," he muses. "I spent my whole lunch break leading you to her house."

"I didn't know that," I say, shocked that he'd give up his free time, which is a very precious commodity in District 8.

"Yeah. I had 10 minutes to get back when I dropped you off. Sprinted all the way back."

"You didn't have to escort me," I point out. "You could've told me where to go."

"It wasn't a big deal," he shrugs. "I was worried you'd get lost again without someone friendly to help you." But it was a big deal that Jay walked me over. I'd been so confused and scared, since I was walking through one of the riskier parts of District 8. But Jay's always been noble and generous since I've met him, even when it inconvenienced himself.


	13. Attack of the Careers

Hunger pangs distract me as we continue our trek, but we begin to get closer, and my morale lifts. Just as we reach the edge of the forest, the sun is beginning to sink low in the sky, and so is the temperature.

"Jay," I call.

"Yeah?"

"This doesn't look...right," I stammer, gesturing to the forest. Piney branches that once looked like guardians have become spindly beasts in the shadows. The lovely green color has turned to deep black. Overall, the forest has become more menacing than friendly.

"Geez Linny," Jay sighs. "We walk all day just so you can feel safe, and now you're telling me you're afraid of the spooky forest." _He's mocking me,_ I think bitterly, _like a child who's afraid of monsters_.

"I'm not scared," I snap, and without a second though, I march right into the forest. After about 2 minutes of walking, Jay suggests setting up camp. Practice must make perfect, because it only takes a few moments to set up our shelter. Armed with patience and several sticks, Jay attempts to make a fire. Sparks flare onto the bundle of dry grass we found, and soon, a warm fire blooms. Jay puts the rabbit on a spit so it can cook, the mouth-watering scent makes my stomach churn faster.

"I'm gonna try some snares," I say. "Pass me the knife." Darkness is falling quickly, but I think I can get a snare up before it's too dark to see. Grabbing my sewing kit, I bound off in the opposite direction that runs parallel to the edge of the forest and meadow. When I decide I'm far away enough, I work quickly, deftly tying the needed knots with my fingers. Breaking the stillness of twilight, a loud and throaty laugh floats to my ears, it sounds like it's coming from the meadow. Frozen in fear, I wait with baited breath for anymore sounds. Three torches are making their way toward me, less than 30 feet away. My breath hitches as I hear the low and deadly sound of a sword scraping against a rock. Silhouetted by the light of another torch is a wickedly sharp ax, and I catch a brief glimpse of a fist full of spears. Careers are coming for us. My heart lodges in my throat as I swiftly fly through the forest back to Jay, branches slapping me in the face and roots threatening to trip me. I reach our camp, frantic and panicked.

"Linny what's wrong?" Wordlessly, I pour our last bit of water on the fire and stomp on the ashes. I'm beginning to rip down the shelter when Jay grabs my arm.

"What is it?"

"Careers," I breath, not daring to speak above a whisper. Seconds later, he's right by my side, stuffing the tarps in the backpack. I wrap the flannel around my neck, and toss Jay the knife. Voices in a 3-part harmony of arrogance, violence, and taunts float to my ears. They're right on top of us as the anthem begins to blare into the night and I grab the half-done rabbit. One glance tells me Currio is dead. Another stolen glance for Jonquil and Kass. Just as we dive into the bushes, Ajax comes into view, the light of the torch casting menacing shadows on his ruddy face. Evander scans the forest floor, casually wielding an ax as if it is a child's toy, arms rippling with muscle. Any friendliness between us has vanished. _Will he cut me down like a sapling?_ I wonder, reminded of how easy it was for him to use his ax.

"The ashes are still hot," Alto declares, clutching 2 spears in his fist. "Whoever was here just took flight."

"They won't get far," Evander smirks. Jay snatches my hand and yanks me forward. Blackness swirls around us as we frantically take flight, taking care not to make a single noise. I hear shouts of challenge and danger behind us as we crash through the woods. It's impossible to stay quiet when you can't see your hand in front of your face. Crashing footsteps are following us, we double our pace in a panic. Branches whips me across the face while roots threaten to trip me with every step. Everytime I so much as breathe too loudly, a string of colorful curses is woven under Jay's breath. But thank God for Jay, he pulls me along and forces me to keep moving forward. Moonlight streams through the trees as we come upon a stream.

"Jump in," Jay hisses, and we start splashing our way downstream in a desperate attempt to throw them off. Water soaks my boots as we move quicker, trading safety for speed. We no longer hear the careers, but that doesn't mean they aren't following us. My boot comes down a slippery rock, I fall on my side. Shivering, Jay continues to drag me downstream, even though I can almost feel my blood turning to ice. Jay trips over an unseen object while holding my hand, plunging us both face-first into the ice water. Shock courses through me, then I become aware of the icy liquid. Jay hauls me up by the coat hood, and we cross to the other side. I jam the spit with the half-cooked rabbit into the ground, and we strip off our clothes. Jackets, shirts, and pants get hung from tree branches. Boots are taken off, then hung upside down so they'll dry. We're down to cotton undershorts and tank tops.

"T-t-take the b-blanket," Jay shivers, shoving the blanket towards me.

"N-n-n-no w-way," I croak, shoving the blanket at him. We argue in hushed whispers for a few moments. Finally, I point out that if we don't share the little bit of blanket we have, we'll both freeze. So we lay down a tarp to sit on, we lean against the tree, and huddle under the tarp and flannel. It's pretty clear that no one is going to sleep at all tonight. Every single rustle seems louder than a gunshot. Jay refuses to put down the knife, instead he points it in the direction of the sounds. Time drags on, but I haven't warmed up at all. Jay is no longer shivering, he actually seems to be cozy.

"You're shaking," Jay whispers.

"I'm freezing," I shiver, my breath forming clouds in the frosty air.

"You're too thin," he jokes. Morning comes slowly, but the air warms up almost immediately.

"The clothes are still wet," I sigh.

"We'll just leave them here to dry," Jay says. "I think this is a good spot to camp."

"Are you sure? Anyone following the river could find us," I note, running my fingers through the disaster that is my hair. Jay starts a fire, and we resume cooking the rabbit.

"Smells good," I smile.

"I found us some dandelion leaves by the river bank," Jay calls, a fistfull of them in his hands. "They'll make a nice salad."

"Jay?"

"What?"

"Are you feeling alright? I mean, do you wanna talk about Gaylynn?"

"No," he snaps, an uncalled for flash of anger bursting out.

"You can talk to me," I continue. "I just wanna make sure you're feeling alright."

"I'm fine," he mutters disdainfully. I take the rabbit off the fire, and we eat it slowly. The grease is pure heaven, all of my energy goes into restraining myself from eating it all.

"I think we need to change up our strategy," Jay begins, swallowing a mouthful of greens. "Offensive instead of defensive."

"I'm not sure that's possible," I warn.

"Oh c'mon Linny, we can't just wait it out," he protests.

"Yes, we can. And besides, we only have one knife between the two of us," I say.

"We could've fought them last night," he mutters.

"We would've died."

"How do you know?"

"One knife against a sword, axes, and spears. Plus they're way stronger than us."

"I'm not as fragile as you, Linen."

"Fragile?" Now Jay's gone too far. "I'm not fragile!"

"Says you."

"You're impossible," I spat, still seething over being called fragile. Angry silence follows. I begin preparing to weaponize my words, since Jay knows how to cut me down to size. Our fights back home were legendary. Adults thought they were hearing a fistfight, only to find out that it was purely verbal. When then rage rises, so does the volume.

"Any reason for this change of plans?"

"I hate running all the time," he snarls. "Fighting will make this go quicker."

"You're gonna get yourself killed," I smirk. After our tense breakfast, we decide to get some things done.

"I'm gonna go set snares," I say, picking up the knife. "How about you?"

"I was gonna build the shelter," he says. I leave the river behind, and walk for several minutes before I deftly set a twitch-up snare. A few more minutes of walking, and I set another.

"When you're in love, it's a snap, but don't believe her, she's a trap," I sing. "Her heart's so cold it could be ice, now that you've been told take my advice." _Jay taught me that one,_ I think. Soft light filters through the pine branches, and I see birds taking flight. It's almost peaceful, but I know that cameras must be placed all over the forest. As I crouch down to finish the knots on my snare, a shrill scream rings through the trees.

"Jay please!" Instantly, I'm flying through the forest, heading towards the screams. My stomach knots as I realize I'm running toward our camp. _Jay would never attack someone,_ I think, as I streak towards the screams. Finally, I reach the river bank. Jay has somehow managed to tackle Glade, and is pinning her down with his knees. A frighteningly sharp rock is clutched in his hand.

"Jay no," I screech, knocking him off of her. Glade scrambles into the trees, not daring to look back. Jay and I wrestle on the ground for several moments as I try to wrench the rock from his hands. For one heart-stopping moment, his hand tightens around my throat, cutting off may air. Desperation kicks in, I ram my knee into his gut, his hands loose enough for me to wriggle away with the rock clutched in my hands. After lots of scratching and elbowing, I toss the rock into the river. We scuffle a few moments longer before Jay grabs me by the collar, seething with rage.

"What were you thinking?" His enraged expression does not change at my question.

"She was going to steal from us," he snarls.

"She was defenseless," I snarl back. "You should be ashamed of yourself." With an angry huff, he loosens his grip on my undershirt, and stands up.

"She could've taken our supplies," Jay mutters, pacing back and forth.

"Glade would never stoop low enough to steal from us," I shoot back.

"You don't know that," Jay yells. "It's the games! Everyone is different now."

"You're different too," I say sadly. Silence follows as Jay inwardly pulls himself together.

"You've changed," I continue. "I want the Jay that cared about other people and would always see the best in everyone." Jay whirls around and grabs me by the collar again, hauling me to my feet.

"He left a long time ago," he growls.

"No, he died with Gaylynn," I whisper. "You used to care about me, and now you can't stand me." The grip on my shirt does not loosen this time.

"Put me down," I demand.

"I shouldn't have to take care of you," He snarls bitterly. "You're just dead weight." All the fight goes out of me. Betrayal and hurt start to replace anger and frustration. I'd like to think Jay's only saying this stuff because he's angry. But if this is what he truly thinks of me, then I'm willing to face it.

"Don't call me that," I say, my voice shakes around the edges.

"Why? Because it's true?" We're eye to eye, nose to nose, and his eyes are filled with cold anger.

"Please let go of me." There are many reasons why Jay could be angry at me. There are many reasons why I could be angry at him. Reasons or not, I just want him to leave me alone. Plodding off to sit on the riverbank, Jay's absence of empathy bothers me.


	14. Me, Myself, & I

All day, we argue as we try to accomplish the most simple of tasks. There are brief moments of quiet, when we both have simply run out of things to say, but they never last. Ugly words are tossed back and forth like a game of catch. Insults are traded, feelings are hurt, and pride is fatally wounded. Insecurities are exploited to their fullest potential, which is more painful than any physical wound.

"You're desperate for a guy," Jay snaps, as hot tears blur my eyes.

"And you were desperate for Gaylynn," I sob. That shuts him up as the sun dips low in the sky. _I'd like to take it all back,_ I think. Even though he gets heated, Jay's anger really runs cold. When he's truly enraged, the perfect words to break someone apart come quickly to his brain, and even quicker to his mouth. Frustratingly, my anger runs hot. Clarity of mind takes a leave of absence, and the most random things fly out of my mouth. Either way, both of us have tried to destroy each other, and I think it's worked. My heart feels like it's breaking into pieces, and Jay's expression is pitiful. I've been crying or almost crying since early afternoon.

"Linen, I-"

"Leave. Me. Alone," I snarl, barely repressing loud sobs. My feelings are beyond hurt, and I'm having a hard time processing everything that just went down. Jay's not only called me fragile. Desperate, pitiful, weak, demanding, whiny, emotional, immature, loud, and dumb have all been mentioned. The best thing I could come up for him was a sorry excuse for a knight in shining armor, which probably hurt a lot. Wordlessly, I take what's left of the rabbit and climb one of the pine trees. In seconds, Jay's standing at the base of the tree.

"Save some for me," he protests.

"Get your own," I spat, taking a huge bite.

"You're a snotty little princess, Linen," Jay mocks.

"And you are a insignificant peasant, so go away," I retort.

"You better give me a piece!"

"Why should I?"

"Because we both agreed to share!"

"Too bad!"

"Linen Lysandra Davenport, you better give me a piece!" _How the devil does he know my middle name?_ I wonder, then I remember telling him on the train. He never told me his, or I just can't remember.

"Come up and get it, Jaylor," I simper, my voice so sickeningly sweet it makes me gag. Moments later, I'm throwing pinecones at his smug face as he climbs up the tree. I can't climb any higher, the branches are creaking underneath me. He snatches the rabbit out of my hands and scarfs the rest. We sit in angry silence until the rage turns to guilt, which obviously doesn't take long.

"Look," he says. "This clearly isn't working. I don't think I should stay anymore."

"We can work something out," I stammer. "You don't have to go."

"Linen, I don't think we should have to put up with each other," he sighs.

"But I don't want you to leave," I say. "I need a partner."

"We've both said some awful things," he points out. "I don't think we'll ever be able to let go of that completely."

"Please don't leave me," I beg, and I sound ridiculously pitiful and desperate. We sit in silence as the anthem plays, but oddly, no one has died today.

"Fine," Jay relents. "I'll stay." I thank him profusely, and we climb back down.

"I'm gonna turn in for the night," Jay says. "Wake me up in a few hours." _He remembered my middle name,_ I think wistfully. Lysandra is the name of a relative whom I can't recall. Long names are standard in the Davenport family. My dad's name is Christoffel Barnabus. My mother's name is Myrine Daphne. _I miss them so much,_ I muse. Every day with my parents was a gift, and I fear I'll never get that gift again. Stars dot the sky like sequins on black fabric, never before have I seen so many. District 8 is largely industrial, stars are few and far in between. The fire is slowly dying, I poke at it with a random branch to keep it going. My watch goes by quickly, and I shake Jay awake.

"Dang it," he mumbles. "I was having the best dream." But without much protest, he quickly gets up and moving.

"Don't forget to wake me up," I remind, passing him the knife. He throws his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Goodnight," he whispers.

"I'll see you in a few hours," I laugh, hugging him back.

"Sure," he smiles. "Sweet dreams." Sleep takes over as soon as I lay down. My dream is sweeter than I could've imagined. In it, my friends from back home are celebrating something with me. There seems to be no reason, but they pull out a massive vanilla lemon cake, and we eat it anyway. Jay walks in for a few moments with a present, then vanishes. Inside there's a braclet, with a silver charm. Just as I'm about to examine it further, my eyes fly open.

Blue sky, fluffy cotton clouds, and a rosy colored sunrise. It's beautiful to look at, I lay on my back for several minutes, admiring the gamemaker's handiwork on the sunrise. _Where's the tarp?_ I wonder. Shock hits me like a lightning bolt, my feet are on the ground in seconds. The tarp is gone. The space where Jay should be is cold. Through examination reveals that the water container, knife, and crackers have a vanished. My stomach pitches. This cannot be true.

"Jay," I call, his clothes and boots are gone as well. "Jaylor!" No response but the chirp of a bird and the rustle of pine needles. I'm alone.

"He left," I whisper. There is no other explanation. Jay must've left hours ago, taking vital supplies with him. Another search of our campsite reveals that Jay covered his tracks a little too well, there's no indication of where he might've gone.

"Jaylor!" My yell does nothing. He could be hours away. I've been abandoned. He's left me to die. Cold fear shoots through me.

"Dang it," I scream. "Jaylor Hearthwind, you cowardly devil, you took all the supplies!" Seething with rage, I hurl a small stone into the river. I wait for my mind to catch up with my mouth. I'm going to die alone and forgotten.

"He took everything that belonged to him," I say. Jay left me my sewing kit, the other tarp, the flannel blanket, and the empty backpack.

"But I still don't have a knife," I howl in frustration. Out of sheer spite, I decide to break camp and walk upstream. But pain blooms in my chest, the pain of being left.

"He doesn't think I can do it," I mutter bitterly. "He doesn't think I'll last one day alone. I'll show him." Items get shoved into the backpack, my sewing kit goes in my coat pocket. I start my trek, spite fueling my motivation. Every time I think of Jay, I add a pinch of bitterness to my mind. Walking upstream does not change much. I check my snares from yesterday. Only a single rabbit has been caught, and it's not very big. There are still pine trees and the bank remains flat and stony. Without warning, a parachute falls from the sky. Instead of being the silvery color of the sponsor gifts, it's pure white. With shaking hands I open the container to find exactly one silver bullet.

"The heck?" I turn it over in my hands. There's no point in keeping it, but I do. Against my better judgement, I decide to enter the forest, but walk parallel to the river. Hairs on the back of my neck prick, almost as if I'm being watched. Sticks crack behind me. I whirl around to face Rosemary, who's pointing a wickedly sharp stick at me.

"Oh, I thought you were someone else," she sighs.

"What are you doing here?"

"That wildfire burned up most everything on the other side of the canyon," she explains, taking my hand and leading me somewhere.

"These woods are crawling with careers." In a few moments, we arrive at her campsite, a hammock strung up high in the trees.

"Linen, where's Jay?" The pain in my chest intensifies.

"I don't know," I sigh. "He left sometime last night." A brief expression of disdain marrs her pretty face, but vanishes quickly, replaced by a somber frown.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she says. "I didn't think he'd do something like that." Not even Rosemary could've seen it coming.

"Well, he's a different Jay," I muse. "We had a massive fight."

"How massive?" Rosemary begins cooking something that looks like a fish over her small fire.

"Like, broke my heart massive," I mutter.

"Woah. That serious, huh?" The fish begins to sizzle, sending a delicious aroma into the air.

"Yeah, he called me a bunch of awful names. He even called me demanding, and said I was a dead weight."

"No!"

"Yes! That fool never even apologized!"

"He's a jerk," Rosemary mutters, taking the fish off the fire. I open my mouth to defend him, but close it just as quickly. Why should I stick up for someone who left me to die? Rosemary passes me a big hunk of fish, and I cram it in my mouth. The fish tastes an awful lot like mud, but I eat it anyway, grateful for the food.

"Thank you," I say, licking my fingers. Rosemary has several little fish strung up above her hammock for drying. That way she doesn't have to cook them anymore.

"Do you have a sweetheart?"

"Believe it or not, I do," Rosemary smiles. "His name is Darius. We've been together for about a year."

"That's so sweet," I smile.

"He works as a deckhand on one of the biggest boats in District 4," she says with pride. "He makes quite a bit of money."

"Must be a nice job," I sigh.

"It's not nice," she mutters. "I only see him a few times a month. He's always out at sea, catching fish and pulling up crab pots." She bitterly takes the fish bones and starts cleaning them in a small container of water.

"What happens when there's a storm?" A look of pity crosses her face, but she continues to pick the bones clean.

"You go to the docks and wait for the boats to come back," she sighs. "Most of the time they come back, but almost always with an injured crew member. Sometimes, they come back with a little slip of red paper for you that means they drowned." My gut twists. I always imagined the ocean as friendly and fun, not as treacherous and stormy. We sit and chat for a few moments longer, Rosemary still cleaning her fish bones intently.

"I should get going," I sigh.

"Where are you even going, anyway?" Realization shatters the false illusion that was my confidence. I've no idea what I'm doing or where I'm going.

"I'm going to find Jaylor," I state. Pity flashes across her lovely face, sinking my hopes even lower.

"Are you sure he wants to be found?" My heart flutters in worry for a moment, then continues beating as normal.

"Either way, I'm going to find him," I retort. Rosemary sends me off with a dried fish, I give her a small length of fishing line.

"By the way, what's your middle name?" She looks startled by my question.

"Rhea," she smiles. "What's yours?"

"Lysandra," I reply. "Thanks for the fish." Nerves shaking, I troop off back towards the river. Why wouldn't Jay want to be found? He's been with me every step of the way since we took this deadly journey.

"But he left," I say aloud. This hurts my heart, as if one of Alto's spears or Jewel's arrows has pierced it. I must find someone to talk to. Someone who can understand me, someone who knows me for who I am. But does he really know who I am? Do I even know who I am anymore?

"I'm Linen." My words come out all wobbly and faint, like my stumbling footsteps on the river stones. I'm going to slip and break my ankle. Now is not the time to be questioning the very fabric of my existence. I need a partner.

"That's what I needed all along," I stammer, struck by the realization. In waves, the river bank begins to sway underneath my tiny feet. My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton. I plop down beside the cool water, the swaying sensation vanishes. All I can do is stare blankly at the deep green water and try to sort out what is making me so nervous.

"I need someone to talk to," I say. "Someone who's always there for me. Someone who knows me and appreciates me." Jay did not appreciate me. I roll that thought around in my tired head. Jay has reminded me time and time again that I am utterly helpless, and that without him, I'd be dead. How differently would the games have gone for me if he'd abandoned me from the start?

I stood on the train platform. Time to leave. Theodosia bustled her way up the steps into the sleek silver train. My heart was in my throat, a lump of tears and nerves that refused to be swallowed. Jay, determination written across his pale face, stepped onto the train without a single backward glance. His steps did not falter, he did not look back. Then it was my turn. My turn to board the vessel that would lead me into the unknown. My right foot lifted up, and hesitantly rested on the platform. My hands gripped onto the railings, and just as I was about to place my left foot on the step, I looked back. Gray sky. Gray buildings. Gray faces of people who had no hope. Yet our clothes were bright and colorful. My world lacked color that day, save for a hopeless gray. But then I was frozen. As I surveyed my district, my left foot seemed to stick to the platform.

"Miss Davenport, we have a schedule to keep!" Theodosia's voice sounded foggy, and indistinct. Every muscle in me told me to choose. But I couldn't. I was trapped. Trapped between a world of gray and sorrow and hunger, and the impossibly beautiful silver train.

"Linen." Jay's voice rang clearly. I kept looking at all the gray and hopelessness.

"Linen, look at me." Unbidden, my head turned to face him. He was whiter than a sheet, save for the red ring around his eyes.

"Linen, you need to get on the train." His reaping clothes were blue. Nice navy blue.

"I can't," I whispered, too scared to even take the second step.

"Take my hand," he said kindly. "And step onto the train." His right hand, calloused and worn, hovered in front of me. We locked eyes. Time slowed to a crawl. Deep breaths. Stay calm. Take his hand. My right hand found his, and with all the strength I could muster, I stepped all the way onto the train. The door slid shut behind me. The silver train began to move. I stepped into a world dripping with luxury, excess, and opulence.

Funny how even though I spent days in the capitol, I still saw things through a lense of gray hopelessness.

"Keep moving," I mutter, and I force myself to keep stumbling up the banks of the river.


	15. And The Rain Pours Down

The night proves to be uneventful. Sleep no longer comes easily to me, especially since anyone with a sharp stick could kill me during the night. No one has died today, which I find shocking. Any weapons or traps must've been poorly timed.

I dream of a gala. It's fancy, bright and wonderful. I am a whirl of bright red. Jay is there, a bright spot of blue among the sea of greys and blacks. He wears a white bowtie. Songs play loudly through the place, and the floor erupts into a sea of dancing and laughing. Jockeying to get to him, I watch Jay slip out a side door. With a mighty effort, I shove and elbow my way through the crowd and follow him. The second I shut the door behind me, I want to go back in. The landscape is all a hopeless gray fog. Jay turns and studies me for a few moments, then walks into the fog. I run in after him. Tendrils of fog surround me on all sides. Whispers of doubt and shame assault me from every angle. I stumble onward through the gray, searching for him. I hear his voice mocking me. I stop dead in my tracks. My dress turns to tatters and rags as he taunts. Crawling forward, I find a white bowtie on the ground. Snatching it up, I try to examine it for some kind of sign.

It's spattered with blood.

Morning comes, whoever's in charge of the sunrise is doing a good job, the pink and orange are a lovely start to a less-than-lovely day. Tear tracks are on my cheeks, last night's dream felt realer than I care to admit. I break camp, and nibble on Rosemary's fish. My endless trek continues. Where exactly I'm going is an utter mystery, but the terrain is becoming more mountainous. Clouds are beginning to darken the sky and block out the sun. It's going to rain, I can smell it in the air, the calm before the storm. Sure enough, a single droplet hits me on the back of the hand. A few seconds pass, then I let out a scream.

As if touched by a hot iron, the raindrop burns my skin, leaving a small red circle of agony. Another droplet falls, this time on my raincoat. Seconds later, the fabric begins to bubble, and I watch in fascination as the rain burns a small hole in the coat. My jaw drops in shock.

"This isn't water," I gasp. More death rain begins to trickle from the sky. I have no choice but to retreat under a large pine tree as the rain begins to pick up speed. Soon, mere droplets turn to a steady drizzle. Not only do they singe human flesh, but the plants too. Panic seizes me. If Jay decided to return to the meadow, then he's a dead man, there's no cover to speak of out there. With a mighty roar, the drizzle turns into an all-out downpour. I wrap myself in the flannel blanket, then in the tarp, taking care to shield my eyes and face. Death water starts to drip through the tree. My hands are in raw agony, since holding the tarp exposes them to the dastardly water. Two cannons fire within seconds of each other. With a huge gust of wind, the rain blows horizontally. Right into my uncovered face. Screaming like a maniac, I flatten myself on the ground as my face explodes into agony, as if someone's lit it on fire. Screaming into the pine needles, I feel the rain burning the small strip of skin between my pants and boots. More rain pours, my skin burns. 10 more minutes of absolute hell passes, then the rain trickles to a halt. I wait a few moments more to crawl out of my position and towards the river. Without thinking, I plunge my hands into the water. Pain shoots through them, I jerk them out of the water quickly. The river water must be tainted by the rain.

"I hope you're alive," I shudder, the image of Jay being burnt to death fresh in my mind. Two cannons. One could be Jay. I don't know. I have no power. My eyes glance down and I nearly faint at the sight of my angry red hands. In some places on my knuckles, the acid has burnt down to the bone. I start wondering if I can sew my own cuts back together, but they're shaking so hard I'll probably mess up.

Instead, I resign myself to using a sharp piece of flint to rip small strips of flannel and tying them around my fingers. My hands tremble the whole time, making it take even longer than it ought to.

Bandaging fingers is a common practice in District 8. Cuts from the machines, blisters opening, and even losing whole fingers were all common. My hands sported old bandages from time to time. Some like Jay would wear them day and night until they'd fray and turn into tatters. Then new ones would be added. I gather my meager supplies and continue walking upstream. I sing. Loudly. Arias, chants, district tunes. Everyone one of them rings through the impossibly green trees and seems to color my world. The sky is a brilliant shade of blue. Smiling yellow sun. Deep green water. Then I think of those nearby and stop right in the middle of an aria. Evander and his ax could be just inside those woods. My gut twists with the thought.

"Come at me!" Not a living soul responds to my open challenge. I am unarmed. Anyone could snap me in half if they tried. Evander and his ax. Jewel and her arrows. Alto and his spears. Pearl and her knives. Even Rosemary could've killed me with her pointy stick.

"We're going to die." His words, so clear and sharp left me speechless. Jaylor was never one to mince words, but that was new. My heart ached as I cried silent tears on the train. Night was falling. Theodosia had left us alone so we'd get to know each other better. Jay had hardly said two words until I said I was afraid.

"Get a grip Linen," he snapped.

"I'm trying," I whimpered, positively overcome by the day's rollercoaster of emotions.

"I should've known," he spat. "You're just a little girl." My heart died a little. I should've screamed at him, showed him who he was dealing with. I didn't. Fleeing his coldness, I ran to my bedroom and wept for hours.

"He never apologized," I say aloud to the trees. Then it hits me. I must find him. I must tell him everything I never had the courage to say. There are so many things I cannot leave unspoken. He must know that I never got over that day on the train. He must know that I need him more than I ever imagined.

"But what if he-?" My words stop short. Suppose Jay...doesn't survive. What if I did survive? I realized that I have changed so much in a few days. I am not the little girl who wept on the train. I am not the little girl that panicked during training. I am not the little girl who could get flustered by one sweet word from a boy. I see myself for who I am.

Fragile. Broken. Small.

Jay saw this. Jay saw something else, a part of me that has died. Feisty. Witty. Confident. The games have robbed me of myself. That is my fate if I return. A world of gray hopelessness that hasn't changed since I left. But I have changed. No one at home will ever come to grips with what happened. Neither will I, to be truthful. But Jay's family, will they ever speak to me? Will they resent me? Lost in thought, I barely notice the cannon. Jarring me from my thoughts, I clutch my piece of flint in fear. Someone else is dead. A killer walks through the woods. Am I a killer? Fear shoots through me again when I realize Septimus could still be alive. If he comes for me, will he let me live? Partnering with Septimus seems like the quickest way to get a knife in the back. He has murdered. Blood stains his hands. Ash died at his hands, blonde hair stained with blood. Gaylynn died at his hand's too. Rage fills me. Losing Gaylynn destroyed Jay. Septimus took something sweet and destroyed it. I saw the light in Jay's eyes go out as I yelled at him to leave. _I destroyed what was left,_ I think. _And it wasn't sweet._ No wonder Jay stopped caring. I would've too. I think of how much attention I demanded of him. How I demanded we leave so soon when we really could've stayed a day or two. I asked so much but gave so little.

Selfishness caused him to leave. I return to the verdant forest, walking in the trees but parallel to the river. I wonder who's dead. At my last count, Mitch, Adeline, Rosemary, Jay, Septimus, Jewel, Ajax, Pearl, Alto, Glade, North, and Evander were still alive. _Take away 3 and that makes 11 left to play,_ I think.

"My Lord," I exclaim, "I made it past halfway!" Truthfully, I hadn't noticed. District 8 must be excited.

"Theodosia must be busy," I muse. She has the worst job, now that I think of it. She has to make us look like winners, and pick up the pieces if we do something shameful. She also must escort 2 kids to their death every year. Last year it was Paisley and Jason. Before that, Marcella and Loden. I cannot remember anything past that but the very first girl to be reaped. I was only 10 at the time.

"Delaine Steamyfrond," I say. "18 years old, about to get married." I hadn't known her family well. My mother made me take a loaf of bread to them. Their house looked as if a gust of wind had blown through. Chenille Steamyfrond, her 15 year old sister, had told me I should be afraid.

"You'll be in the reapings next year," she snarled. "I hope you're lucky enough to stay at home."

"Chenille, that's enough." Mrs. Steamyfrond shooed me out of their house before she could say anymore.

"But Mother," I heard as I walked away. "Delaine won't come back. And neither will anyone else who gets reaped." I never talked to the Steamyfronds after that. Chenille was fortunate enough to get married to Percy Clinewood. That's life in my district. A horribly short childhood, days of working your butt off while trying to avoid being sent away to die, and hopefully finding a husband. Then the cycle repeats, but with your children. Hopeless surrounds you all the while, threatening to plague you with doubt and sadness.

My trek through the piney woods continues. I see the black and white wings of a mockingjay out of the corner of my eye. They chirp melodies back and forth. Other than the birdsong, the forest is oddly quiet. The sun is high in the sky by now, looks to be about noonish. As I march forward, I fail to notice the small plume of smoke curling into the trees ahead of me. Heedlessly, I walk onward. I see a clearing up ahead of me, but pay it no mind. I'm lost in my own thoughts once again. I reach this small clearing and instantly feel panic and adrenaline surging through me.

Two spears are stuck in the highest trees at the other end, along with a single axe. 3 tents, each cut to ribbons, jut out at awkward angles like strange beings. What's left of a large supply stash is scattered across the grass. A small fire smoulders and belches gray smoke. Seated on a rock on the other side of the clearing and sharpening his axe is Evander. He pays me no mind as he scrapes a sharpening stone along the edge of the blade. He's lost weight, but what's left is pure muscle, smattered with acid rain scars. I freeze in complete fear. _If I back away quietly, he won't even know,_ I think, inching my way backwards. Where are Alto and Ajax? I might be able to escape if they are dead or somewhere else, but if they appear, I'm a goner. Tense as a spring, my foot comes down right on a branch. Mercilessly, it cracks louder than a gunshot. Evander's head snaps up in seconds. He locks eyes with me. My heart stops. Breathing becomes very difficult as he studies me without a trace of emotion. The ax catches the sunlight and gleams wickedly. My breathing returns, but it's ragged and halting. Can I climb a tree fast enough? Can I take my chances and outrun him? Can I cross the river and escape? He hefts his ax and starts walking towards me. My heart starts racing violently. Moments later, my brain springs into action and I bolt through the trees. Evander is right on my heels, crashing through the trees much faster than me. Fortunately for him, I become much easier to catch by tripping over a tree root. I flip over onto my back as he towers over me, ax gleaming in the sunlight. He knows he's caught me, a smirk plays on the edge of his lips, the ax rests casually on his shoulder. Trembling, I nervously wait for him to just get it over with and kill me.

"Where's your boyfriend?"

"I don't know," I whimper, shaking all over. Maybe I'll get lucky and he won't kill me. He raises the ax to surely end my life. Just before I squeeze my eyes shut, I see the flash of something silver strapped to his belt loops.

"Wait!"


	16. I Didn't Axe You to Kill Me!

Evander stops mid-swing, the returns to resting the ax on his shoulder. Relief washes over me, but I'm still shaking like a leaf. _I almost died,_ I think.

"What now?" He's obviously annoyed that I had the gall to interrupt him, he looks impatient with me.

"Y-you h-h-have a p-pistol," I tremble, gesturing to the slender silver weapon strapped to his belt loops.

"Thanks for noticing," he smirks. "Why do you care?" It's hard for me to form words with a deadly weapon looming over me.

Unraveling my thoughts, I finally manage to get the words arranged.

"I h-have a b-bullet," I stammer. Immediately, he lowers the ax to his side, distrust in his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" I swiftly pull the singular bullet out of my pants pocket. It catches the sunlight and gleams impressively. He sets down his ax and studies it carefully.

"Where'd you get that?"

"White parachute," I explain. "It wasn't from a sponsor." _I'd be dead right now if I hadn't kept it,_ I think.

"So what's the big deal?" He picks up his ax again. "Why can't I just kill you and take it?"

"I'll swallow it," I screech, holding the bullet over my mouth.

"So?"

"I'll throw it," I yelp. This time, he hesitates. I don't think Evander really wants to kill me. I talked to him in training, we hung out together.

"He looks like a killer, but he's not," Ash smiled, sharpening her hatchet with care. "I don't think he'd hurt anyone."

"I'll give it to you if you let me go," I beg pitifully. Evander has basically brought me to my knees, I have no choice but to beg for mercy. It's humiliating.

"Why should I?"

"You could kill Septimus!" This stops him cold, I wait for him to answer me. I stretch out my hand, the icy cold bullet laying in my palm. Time slows down. There is nothing else. It's me, the boy from District 7, the ax, and a bullet. Nothing else matters. All of Panem must be on the edge of their seats, anticipation nearly killing them. My heart seems to have stopped beating. I hold my breath. Suddenly time catches up to me as Evander's rough hand snatches the bullet out of my tiny hand.

"You have 5 seconds," he smirks, and I scramble to my feet back towards the river. Lungs burning, I practically fly through the trees as Evander starts shouting for Alto. The piney forest floor turns to rock as I reach the banks of the river. _Cross or run?_ I wonder. Alto's a better swimmer than me, but the river doesn't look deep enough. I've got no choice but to cross. Daintily, I start picking my way across the river, trying very hard not to slosh water in my boots. I'm halfway across when Alto and Evander appear on the bank.

"Screw it," I curse, and quickly slosh my way across the river, sending tidal waves of icy water down my boots. A spear lands a few feet in front of me. _Take it,_ I think. But if I grab it, Alto will surely track me down to get it back. He may not be as merciful as Evander was. In the end, I abandon the spear, and zip into the woods and up a tree. Heart pounding, I wait for Alto to come and spear me like a fish. Nothing happens. In fact, from my vantage point, I watch Alto retrieve his spear, then cross the river to meet Evander. They turn and head back into the woods.

"I could've died," I breath. How many times have I almost died? The canyon with Gaylynn. The forest fire. The lightning. The careers first attempt at killing us. The acid rain. And now Evander and Alto once again. Too many close calls.

"Don't worry Linen," Dimity smiled. "I'm sure they won't pick you."

"Yeah," Scarlet chimed in. "Your name's only in there a couple times."

I hate thinking about reaping day. _God, that was awful,_ I think, scampering down the tree. I land on my side with a thud, an unpleasant feeling. Then I realize I slogged through the river without being burned. The water must be ok. I sneak back to the banks of the river, and puzzle about how to carry water with no container. In the end, I dump out my sewing kit, and use the clear vinyl bag to carry the water. Fortunately, it doesn't leak. I cut another square off of the flannel, and tie up a simple bag for my kit. Every sound has me glancing up in fear, waiting for Alto to come back and spear me. I shove my things in the backpack, and decide to enter the woods. I hate to leave the river behind, but I feel like entering the woods is a necessary evil if I am to find Jay. But my shoes are wet, and the sun is already starting to dip. I could get a blister walking around with soggy boots.

I have no choice but to walk for a few moments, then make camp. I strip off my shoes, then prop them upside down so they'll dry. A fire takes forever to make and blisters my hands, but it's worth it when the temperature starts to dip. My tarp is riddled with tiny holes, but I make a lean-to with sticks and leaves to keep myself warm and dry.

Breaking the stillness of the night, the anthem boldly proclaims the deaths of Ajax, Adeline, and Mitch. _Ajax is dead?_ My mind simply can't process this. He seemed almost invincible. Another career must have taken him down, that's the only explanation that makes sense to me. That would also explain why Evander and Alto's camp was in such a disarray. Someone must've attacked and took out Ajax in the process. But who would be fool enough to do that? 3 against 1 would be tough, even for a good fighter. Jewel could've done it from a distance, potentially, but that seems unlikely. That leaves Pearl. Ajax could've snapped her in half in head-to-head combat, but if she was stealthy...yes that must've been it. Who else would've been light enough to stick those weapons in the upper branches? Only Pearl would've had the guts to wreak havoc on their camp like that.

Yawning, I crawl back into my little shelter to sleep. It's basically throwing caution to the wind to sleep unprotected so close to the careers camp, but I don't care. I'm much too tired and hungry anyway.

My dream is one of the strangest I've ever had in my whole life.

"Linen, you have to get on the train," Jay says. "You're gonna make us late!" We're at the station in District 8. I'm wearing the biggest white ball gown I've ever seen, and Jay refuses to tell me why the heck I should board the train. Theodosia is there, muttering about floral arrangements and champagne under her breath. Margaret shoves a fussy white veil on my head, congratulating me on my "special day" as Jay continues to try and pull me the train.

"Why do I need to go?"

"It's your wedding," Jay snaps, tugging on my arm. "Get on the train!"

"My wedding?" The brief moment of shock gives Jay enough of an advantage to get me on the train. "I have a fiancé?" Jay and I sit next to each other in the car, which is bedecked in white and pink draperies.

"Yes," he snorts. "It's-" But before he can tell me about my significant other, the train begins violently rocking back and forth. In a blur of white skirts, I tumble on top of Jay and we roll to the other side of the car. Bottles of wine shatter, the extra sharp pieces cut us, and the contents of the bottles turn out to be blood. After several minutes of this, we stumble out of the train car, covered in blood, onto a stage in the capitol. Thorn Rookwood says to the audience that they should bring presents to my wedding. I am dripping in blood as my dad tells me to walk with him down the aisle. Jay is waiting at the other end, soaked in bright red blood. No one seems to be bothered by the gore except for me. Rosemary and Margaret on the right, Alto and Evander on Jay's left. My dad deposits me next to Jay, a trail of blood behind me as the official prepares the official marriage certificate.

I sit bolt upright, panicked and sweaty. _Was I about to marry-?_ I decide not to finish that thought. It's a little too disturbing for my taste. _I was totally gonna marry him,_ I think, as I pull out the remainder of Rosemary's fish and eat it. Somehow along the way, I've lost my lone rabbit to eat. I'll set up snares later in the day, if I stay.

"Boots are still wet," I mutter, pushing my hand in to find dampness. I rig a few sticks so they'll hang over the fire and hopefully dry soon. In the meantime, I decide to fashion a bag out of the small square of flannel. Threading my needle, I begin to sew a small bag, taking care to pull my stitches tightly.

"Oh, look how amazing he looks," Dimity swooned, discreetly pointing to Corduroy Frostpaine, arguably the cutest boy in our grade. Reaping day was supposed to be about the Hunger Games, but no one could stop us from giggling about the various hotties in our district. Corduroy turned his soft brown eyes on her and winked at Dimity, sending us into fits of giggles.

"But what about Oxford Perrywight?" Scarlet was simply mad about him, her crush had lasted since the 3rd grade. Oxford was dressed in pale shades of red, he and Scarlet almost matched.

"Ooh, there's Jaylor," Dimity smirked, pointing him out to me. "Navy blue is so ordinary!"

"Nah," Scarlet teased. "Linen thinks he looks cute, doesn't she?"

I almost laugh at our silly boy talk. Dimity and Scarlet are most likely at Organdie Tinnybrook's house for her annual Hunger Games viewing party. They're probably seeing someone else on screen right now, since sewing up a bag isn't something the gamemakers will find interesting. I hear Evander and Alto's voices across the river, sending me into a panic. I almost forgot about my would-be-killers.

"Shoot!" I scramble to grab my boots and tie the laces together, then throw them around my neck. My stuff gets jammed into my bag, and my sewing kit goes in my coat pocket. My feet are bare, since I shoved my socks into the boots. The rowdy voices get louder, and I take off, with not enough time to put out the fire. My bare feet pound against the forest floor, which is very soft and plush. I run, panting and out of breath until I'm sure of my relative safety.


	17. Everything and Nothing

The forest floor feels good under my feet as I continue walking inwards. The forest also becomes a lot darker, the spindly trees standing sinister and tall. I don't know why I'm walking this way, or why I think Jaylor would be here. Doubt plagues me at every step.

"You look fine," he said as we climbed onto the chariot, dressed from head to toe in puffy green and black patterned fabric.

"I don't feel fine," I muttered, trying to adjust my skirts so Jay could actually fit on the chariot. With a jolt, we began moving. I very nearly pitched over the side, but Jay caught me by the waist.

"Woah there," he laughed. "We don't wanna be remembered for falling off!"

Now we'll be remembered for falling out with each other, I think bitterly as I continue trooping along. My stomach hurts from hunger pains that are getting worse all the time. I haven't eaten anything since the small scrap of fish this morning. I look at my wrist, not only is it peppered with acid burns, it's getting slimmer all the time. I've always been thin, but my bones jut out at awkward angles, which is far beyond the realm of normal thinness. Jaylor would always tease me for being so thin. I'm naturally thin to start, but years of not eating nearly enough has practically turned me into a stick with legs. The forest has become lonelier and colder, the sun barely streams through at all. The terrain also becomes steep and rocky. Soon, I have to pull my shoes and socks back on to avoid cutting my feet. Caves begin appearing. Some are very large, some are barely big enough for me to wriggle inside. They look like the abandoned houses my friends and I used to hang out in.

"Hey Jaylor, wanna come with us?"

"No thanks," he called back, rewrapping his fingers with cloth bandages. "I've got work to do."

"But your shift just finished," Dimity protested.

"I know, but I promised the foreman that I'd load fabric onto the trucks for some extra cash," he smiled. "Don't worry about me."

There were many parties and get-togethers that Jaylor skipped for the sake of working. He almost skipped my birthday party, till I went to his house and offered to make it a joint birthday. We're only a week or so apart in birth dates. Birthdays in District 8 aren't that exciting anyway. Everyone brings whatever food they have, and they eat while congratulating the birthday person. 12th birthdays are somber, because the kid can now be reaped for the games. My thoughts are interrupted when I see a plume of smoke curling out of the trees. Something inside me demands that I investigate. I start walking toward it, hoping I find a friend and not a foe.

"Don't worry," Jaylor said as we rode the elevator down to training. "I'll be your partner."

"Sewing isn't going to get you a high score!"

"Lysandra? That's a pretty middle name."

"How was your pity party in your train car?"

"Linen, you're costume is fine."

"You're just a little girl!"

"Take my hand."

"Stop crying and stand up!"

"We'll be alright if we do this together as friends," he promised, moments before we stepped off the train and into the Capitol. Jay was an anchor in the swirling sea of color and opulence. He kept a tight grip on my wrist so I couldn't be swept away by the Capitol residents. I pick up the pace, desperate to see what awaits me at the plume of smoke. It's further than I thought, my stomach seems to be withering as I walk. Swigging down a few gulps of water, I barell my way through the thick bushes and brambles.

"Jaylor Hearthwind!" As the other students looked on, Jay snapped awake, hair tousled and eyes bloodshot.

"Yes Mrs. Bluecreek?"

"No sleeping in class," she commanded, lightly slapping his hands with a ruler. Other kids, all sporting dark circles and bloodshot eyes, failed to mentioned Jay's marathon at work the night before. Tartan Rowanywest, a friend of Jaylor's, had whispered before class that Jaylor had been working since 5:00 PM the day before.

"Mrs. Bluecreek, I've been awake since 5 in the evening," Jay protested, his voice thick and heavy with exhaustion. Mrs. Bluecreek looked apologetic, and lightly took his hand.

"I'm so sorry Jaylor," she sighed. "If you turn in your homework on time, you're more than welcome to sleep in my class."

About a half hour later I come to a large cave. Smoke belches out of it's open mouth. A dead rabbit hangs on a rack outside. I'm about to make myself heard when I notice something. Bright red blood stains the grass outside, and the yawning mouth of the cave. Its' smeared everywhere, some of it looks old, but most of it still looks wet and sticky. My stomach churns with equal parts hunger and disgust. This can't be it, I think. Blood equals murder in my mind.

Whoever is in that cave may not be entirely sane. A clatter sounds off from somewhere inside the cave, nearly giving me a heart attack.

Then I remember that I have nothing but a sharp piece of flint and my own non existent body strength to defend myself. Heart beating wildly, I slowly back away from the cave and conceal myself in the bushes to watch. Moments later, a familiar figure crawls out.

It's Jaylor. My heart breaks when I see the condition he's in. Patchy acid burns marr his arms and face. His limbs are so much thinner than I remember. I see bones beginning to stick out from his wrist. Thick scratches ring his wrists like bracelets. Most disturbing of all, blood stains the corners of his mouth. He's not the Jaylor from the train, I think. Just by looking at him, I see that he is a profoundly different person now. No amount of pleading from me will ever bring the old Jaylor back. The old him is a casualty of the games. Emotions of all different kinds flutter wildly inside me. Resentment for leaving me. Sorrow over his wounds. Panic about what he'll say to me. Hope that he'll still want to speak to me.

"You don't understand how hard I work," he said on the train. "And I don't expect you to. I do it for my family." Fiercely loyal to anyone he called a friend, Jaylor would fight tooth-and-nail for anyone he cared about. Loyal to all but me, I think. But then again, who would want to stick with a self-centered, broken waif like me? Mustering every ounce of courage I have in me, I slowly stand up. Jay pulls his knife and locks eyes with me. I didn't think he'd pull the knife. Tension fills the air like a deadly fog till I'm nearly gagging on it. Jay has a dangerous gleam in his eyes, the grip on his knife gets tighter as I step closer to him. The wild glint in his eyes gets brighter as I move closer. My heart beats faster as I get closer. Everything and nothing happens when I move closer.

"Do you trust him?" Saffron Alexandrius wasn't sure Jay was reliable. She muttered things to me about how boys would always be disappointing me if I wasn't careful.

"With my life," I replied, silencing any and all further questions. Now I'm not so sure. My heart races. My head spins with possibilities, as it usually does when danger approaches. He could kill me, He could kill me, He could kill me, I repeat. All of Panem must be watching this, waiting for the moment of truth. Jay will give them a good show, I think, as my knees threaten to give out. Theodosia is watching this. My parents are watching. The Hearthwind's are watching. All of our friends, neighbors, and coworkers are watching. I feel the eyes of Panem watching.

"Jaylor," I stammer. A lump forms in my throat. Words have completely failed me. I step closer. He raises the knife. It hovers a few inches from my scarred throat. I stare into his eyes. His face is a mask of stone, but his eyes that flash and dance with turmoil, give everything away. He's unsure of what to do. I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead. Anything could set him off. Cold anger, the kind that Jay wields to perfection, makes it easy for Jay to find the words to destroy me. Cold anger is broiling beneath his surface. I'm not ready for it. I've already been destroyed, I cannot endure any more.

"I left," he notes quietly, an emotion I don't recognize discolors his voice. "And yet, you're here." The tension intensifies. My hope plummets. The emotions and tensions crackling through the air threaten to choke me, and seal my throat shut. But I have a mission. I must speak. I must be heard.

"I'm sorry," I croak. I strain to keep the tears from dripping out of my eyes. It hurts to swallow everything I've been worried about for days on end. It hurts to think that I hadn't prepared to be met with hostility. Fearfully, I wait. I wait for everything and nothing. I wait for the hopeless gray fog to vanish and to stop choking my throat. Jay seems to be considering his options. I see him looking at my patchy scars, my tired eyes, my nearly skeletal frame.

Wordlessly, he lowers the knife and presses the handle into my shaking hand. He says nothing and everything. My thin and scarred fingers close tightly around the knife. You never know how much you need something until it's gone. I never thought about how much I'd need the knife until it was gone. I never thought about how much I needed Jay until he was gone. Gone with me struggling to figure out what I'd done wrong. I questioned everything and nothing. Our eyes meet. A wisp of a smile lights his. My heart starts breaking, how can he smile when I feel so empty? I continue to tremble, still trying to process the details of this interaction. I feel shattered, empty, and small. He pulls me into a tight hug that takes my breath away and mends my heart. The knife falls out of my hand and onto the pine needles. I hug back, so grateful for forgiveness and kindness. I forgive him now. I always knew I would. We don't need words for this. A tear or two seeps out of my eyes as he lets go. I feel strong again.

"I shouldn't have left," he sighs. "I thought you'd…" But he can't find the words to finish. I'd rehearsed in my head all the things I would say. Now I can't remember any of them.

"Being alone was…" I can't finish my sentence either. We stare at each other for a few moments. My mind races to find words that make sense, but I'm too overwhelmed.

"You're different," he observes. "Very different." You don't know the half of it, I think bitterly. Most of it is his fault. I push that thought to the deepest, darkest corner of my mind.

"Blood, it's-" I gesture to the gore that rings the cave. "-Everywhere." Jay's face turns to the color of chalk. Something is wrong.

"You don't by any chance have water?" I pull out my sewing kit bag, expecting him to chug the whole thing. He restrains himself, and drinks about a quarter of the contents.

"Surely you must have water," I say. He shakes his head, my heart sinks.

"There's a pool of water over there," he says, gesturing to his left. "But when the acid rain came, it made it undrinkable. I had to drink…" He avoids my gaze. I gasp in shock. He's been drinking blood for at least a day, if not longer.

"We need to head back to the river," I decide. "The water's drinkable there."

"There's a lake about a half day's walk from here," he says. "It's where the river starts."

"Have you been there?"

"No. But I heard Evander and Alto saying that they were gonna pack up and go there," he admits. The sun is starting to go down. We'll never make it before nightfall. Fortunately, the cave provides an easy and surprisingly clean shelter. Jay has spread pine boughs on the floor to make a comfortable mattress. Jay leaves for a few minutes to go get pine boughs for me.

"I'll be right back," he smiles, and crawls out of the cave into the evening air. Two seconds tick by before my thoughts get the better of me. What if he leaves again? My heart aches at the thought, and I break out into a cold sweat. I'm so frightened at the prospect that I start shaking. Less than a minute later, he returns, arms full of pine boughs. By now I'm a hysterical basket case, sweating and shaking so hard I feel faint. The last bit of dried fish I ate earlier seems to be on the verge of making a reappearance.

"Please come back, please come back," I whisper over and over, maybe my nervous words will bring him back to me.

"Hey I got the-Linen what happened?" Jay immediately drops the pine boughs and crawls to my side.

"I panicked," I tremble, already feeling silly for doing so.

"I didn't think you'd…" he sighs. "I wasn't going to leave you again." That's what you said last time, I think. Jay sighs and spreads out the pine boughs to make a nice little mattress on the opposite end of the cave. I go outside and clean the rabbit. I make a mess of it, but the meat I can salvage, I bring back inside. Jay puts the pieces over a small rack, the juices sizzle and pop loudly. Neither of us speak.

Something is between us. It's not the old friendship. It's not hatred. It's not cold. It's...impossible to describe. Everytime I catch his eye, my thoughts unravel again, my cheeks blush pink, and my heart flutters. He's making you nervous, I think, and quickly shove that thought so far back in my mind that I refuse to think of it again. But unbidden, more thoughts make themselves heard. You like him, I think, and you're a fool if you think it's going to end well. My logical brain is right on the money. He's cute, I think, and you've kinda liked him for a while. Unfortunately, the romantic and emotional brain is also right.

Oh my gosh, I realize, that's why you wanted to find him so badly. Getting angry at myself is stupid, but I do it anyway.

"You fool, it was platonic until now," I curse.

"What?" Jay turns to look at me, confusion written across his face.

"Nothing," I chirp, in a bright and syrupy voice that isn't mine. Jay raises an eyebrow, but doesn't question me further. We sit in more silence and I wrestle with my emotions until the rabbit is cooked.

"Here," Jay offers, passing me the biggest chunk of meat. My mouth waters, I'm so hungry.

"No thanks," I lie. "You take it." Jay knows how awful of a liar I am. He sees right through me.

"Linen, you're thinner than a needle," he snorts, handing me the meat. "One gust of wind and you'll be blown away. Besides, you look like you haven't eaten in days." Nodding, I tear into the meat. Food's never tasted so good. Jay watches me with amusement, thoughtfully chewing his own piece.

"You're supposed to chew," he smirks, gesturing to what's left of the meat. I shoot a teasing glare at him and scarf the rest.

"Theodosia would be appalled," Jay says, licking his fingers. I laugh through a mouthful of rabbit. Never have I been so pleased with a meal. Jay continues to force me to eat until my stomach feels so full, it could burst. We clean up in silence, then we just sit. Something needs to be said. I swallow anxiously, waiting for Jay to say something.

"What happened to your wrists?" As soon as I ask, his eyes flash with pain and fear, but return to normal.

"It was this fog," he begins, his voice tentative and halting. "It made me...see things." Instantly, I see the turmoil in his eyes again.

"See things?"

"Yeah, hallucinate and see stuff that wasn't really there."

"What did you…?" He sighs, nervously running two fingers through his hair.

"I saw my family being attacked by animals. I saw Gaylynn dangling from the highest branch on a tree. And I saw you…" He stops unable to meet my eyes. I want to screech at him to keep going, but I don't think he'd appreciate that. I wait on pins and needles for him to continue.

"I saw you being attacked by Septimus...and everyone I saw was screaming at me to help them." My mind whirls. Jay can't stand leaving anyone behind. Those things he saw probably came close to breaking him. Then I remember that I came quite close to breaking in the middle of the woods. But Jay needs to speak before I do.

"I tried to help, but then I tripped and banged my chin on a tree root. When I did, the pictures flickered and vanished, then came back."

"Why?"

"Whenever I felt real pain, the pictures would vanish. So I pulled my knife and…" He wordlessly gestures to his wrists. Shock radiates out from my heart. Jay cut himself. I imagine his shaking hands, blood dripping down his arms. It makes my heart hurt for him. Jay seems to be incapable of saying anymore.

"I almost broke," he says quietly, avoiding my gaze.

"Me too," I say. The strange thing between us seems to be leaving, but at the same time, it's still here. I say no more. A selfless stirring inside of me says to let him open up before I do. It's the least I can do. Curling up on my piney nest, I realize Jay has been without a blanket for several days. I toss him the flannel blanket without a word. He can use it tonight. Wordlessly, he throws it back. I want to sleep with it, but I tell myself I can wrap up in my tarp. I throw it again, he hurls it back again. This goes on for several minutes until I lose my temper as the blanket hits me in the back of the head.

"Take the blanket, Jaylor," I shriek, hurling it at him with all my might. Instead of hitting him in the face, it sails behind him, thus proving my inability to aim. He bursts out laughing, and he sits up as I crawl over to him, blood boiling hot.

"Take it," I spat, as he tries to shove it back towards me. "I don't need it."

"But you want it," he laughs, attempting to hand it to me. Frustration compels me to throw it in his face again, and I thankfully don't miss.

"That's beside the point," I yell. "I want you to stay warm!" Silence follows. I say nothing because I'm too busy pouting with my arms crossed. Jay says nothing because he's laughing so hard, no sound is coming out. Finally, he comes up for air, and I demand that he use the blanket.

"Jeez," he chuckles, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "You haven't changed at all." The effect is instantaneous, almost like a knife to the heart. I stop pouting and crawl back to my nest, feeling very hurt. Jay stops laughing and immediately looks apologetic.

"You have no idea," I sigh, curling up in my tarp. Jay sighs too, out of the corner of my eye, I watch him run a few fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry Linen," he says, somber notes graying the edge of his steady voice. "I didn't mean it that way."

"I know," I reply quietly. "It's ok." Jay says no more, and he thankfully keeps the blanket.


	18. My Whole World Is Shaken

I dream of a wedding again.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," Thorn says. "You may now kiss the bride." Evander scoops up Ash in a bridal carry and kisses her. Snow falls on the happy couple as everyone cheers and watches them walk back down the aisle. For whatever reason, I'm wearing a summery strapless sundress, while everyone else is dressed in winter dresses and furs. I'm freezing, my whole body turning pale blue.

"Linen," Jay calls, holding up his jacket. "Linen, Linen, Linen!"

"Linen, get up!" Jay is shaking me awake, and handing me the flannel blanket. It's early morning by the looks of the light light beginning to filter in the cave.

"M-morning," I shiver, absolutely frozen from last night.

"Linen, you should've taken the blanket," Jay snorts. "The pool outside is frozen over." I nod and move closer to the fire, wrapping myself in the blanket. Evidently, my tarp was not nearly enough of a blanket. My hands have turned from their usual pinkish-cream color to a ghostly chalk white. Combined with my gaunt frame, I look like some sort of haunted creature one would tell stories about. Rubbing my hands to get the circulation back, I ask Jay if he still has nightmares.

"Every night," he says darkly. "Almost makes me wanna keep my eyes open, but I'm too tired." I nod. Mine haven't been very terrifying as of late, just...odd.

"What do you dream about?" _I can't tell him the truth,_ I think. _He'll think I'm obsessed with him._

"Oh, just um, stuff," I lie. Jay raises one unbelieving eyebrow.

"Stuff? What sort of stuff?" _Do not tell the truth,_ I think.

"A wedding," I blurt. _That was real smart of you,_ I curse. Jay's now raising two surprised eyebrows as I blush hotter and brighter than the sun itself.

"Who was getting married?" _Tread carefully,_ I remind.

"Well in the second wedding…" I begin. _Now you've done it,_ I think nervously.

"Second wedding?" Now I've backed myself into a corner.

"It was Evander and Ash," I finish, intently studying the fire while avoiding Jay's gaze.

"What about the first one?"

"Hmm? Oh I don't remember," I lie, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind my ears. I feel Jay's eyes on me, waiting for me to betray my secret.

"You're a bad liar," he smirks. "But if you don't wanna tell me, fine." Relief washes through me. Jay hands me a leftover piece of meat that I finish eating in less than a minute. That's all there is, though. Jay informs me that he left to go check his snares a few hours ago and found nothing. Fear shoots through me, how could he leave me alone like that?

"I know, I shouldn't have left," he says wryly. "But I wanted to get us food before we left." I nod mutely, appeased by his excuse. We quickly pack up camp, and we take small sips of water after we're ready. Jay crawls out of the cave and I follow him out into the bright and chilly morning.

"Shall we?" I nod, and we begin our trek. We've barely walked 20 feet before we start encountering wicked brambles and thorns. One of them slices Jay in the back of the hand, the cut itself is several inches deep and oozes blood. I quickly cut a length of flannel and bandage his hand. By the time I've finished binding it tightly, the flannel has already begun to turn bright red.

"That wasn't pleasant," he remarks. We backtrack and try to go around the bramble thicket, but it stretches further than my eyes can see.

"We'll have to go through," I declare stoutly. This turns out to be a mistake. We push, cut, and plow our way through the thicket of thorns. Their spiny hands snag on my jacket and leave gashes and tears. They claw my bare skin and hair till it feels as if I've been fighting off a wild animal. One of the thorns opens a gash on my forehead, blood trickles down the bridge of my nose and pools at the bridge of my glasses. Jay lets out a yelp as a thorn gouges him in the leg. We fight and claw our way through the thicket until we finally emerge on the other side, cut to ribbons and studded with thorns. Jay plops down on the ground and starts picking the knife-sharp thorns out of his limbs. He looks remarkably like a hedgehog. Blood seeps out of the gashes and puncture wounds.

"Linen," Jay warns.

"What? What is it?" I'm still trying to get a thorn out of my shoulder, which comes out with a stiff yank and a yelp of pain.

"You've got thorns on your back," he says, hauling himself up and starting to pull them out. Every time he removes one, pain shoots through me.

"Hold still," he snaps, his fingers rest on the back of my neck, then yank a large thorn out.

"Ouch!" I rub the spot on my neck and my fingers come away bloody.

"Linen, your...hair, it's…" Jay sounds very concerned.

"What?"

"A disaster," he chuckles grimly. "There's thorns and brambles all tangled in it." I jam a hand in my hair and immediately get stabbed in the hand by a particularly spiny thorn.

"Let's just keep going," I mutter darkly as Jay snickers at my hair. I remove the nest of thorns from Jay's back, then we continue our journey. The sun gets brighter, but the forest stays the same unearthly shade of deep green. I cannot stand to walk in silence, after all, I just found him less than 24 hours ago.

"Has anything earth shattering happened to you?" Jay's beat me to it. _You don't know the half of it,_ I think, recalling my wonderings and wanderings.

"I got attacked by Evander," I say casually, as if it's no big deal. Jay gasps because it's obviously a very big deal.

"But you're not dead!" I throw my head back and laugh because I came so very close to being dead.

"He had a pistol," I explain, "with no bullets. I had a bullet with no pistol. He gave me a five second head start." Jay shakes his head in disapproval.

"I thought Evander would have the decency to leave a girl like you alone."

"A girl like me?" Jay flushes crimson as I try to keep myself from laughing.

"I just meant...you know...cause-" he stammers.

"It's alright Jaylor," I interrupt. "I know what you meant." He gives me a light hearted punch on the shoulder as we continue walking. I ask him about the death rain, he tells me he was out on the meadow when it happened.

"The meadow? What were you doing there?"

"I didn't think anyone would be out there," he admits. "And I was right. I sprinted all the way to the treeline, then promptly fell into a puddle." I wince, thinking of the sheer pain. The trek continues, and the foliage gets lighter. I find a pine tree that's taller than the rest, and shimmy up as high as I dare. I see the lake, very far away, almost on the edge of the horizon. The sun cheerfully sits at the top of the sky, it must be close to noon.

Suddenly, a violent shaking ensues, as if the arena is being picked up and shaken like the fancy glass thing Theodosia showed me that was called a snow globe. I scream and clutch the tree trunk for dear life as the earth beneath it sways and rolls. Jay is screaming at me to climb down, but the tree is rocking so hard I fear I'll fall to my death if I don't hang on.

Terrified, I watch a section of the arena in the distance split open, a gaping crack that swallows pine trees whole. The shaking does not stop, the tree sways far too much for my liking. Seconds seem like hours as I watch other trees topple nearby.

Mercifully, the shaking stops. My heart is still in my throat that is raw from screaming. Breathing in and out is still extremely difficult. With arms that shake as violently as the earth, I slowly climb down. My legs turn to water when they hit the ground, I fall in a crumpled heap. I can barely lift my head, and when I do, I don't see Jaylor. Propping myself on my elbows, I scream his name. No response.

"Jaylor please!" The knife is laying on the ground, and panic takes over. I scream his name even more until I ravage my throat. Loud sobs rip from my throat in fear. Jay appears at my side.

"Where did you go?" I examine him in a panic, but he's not hurt or wounded.

"I found a clearing a little ways away," he explains. "I thought the trees would fall on me."

"You could've been killed," I rasp angrily. "Don't ever take off like that again!"

"Linen," he shouts, stunning me into silence. He grabs my hand and holds it tight. "I will _never_ leave you ever again!" He helps me to my feet and we troop forward. My throat is completely worthless now, so I can't vocalize how angry I am at Jay. The landscape has become a piney wasteland. Trees have toppled upon other trees, tearing up the ground. An aftershock begins to ripple the earth under my feet, and I grab Jay's hand in a panic. The shaking subsides in a few moments. I still clutch his hand like a lifeline until I remember that I'm supposed to be seething with anger. Dropping his hand as if it's covered in disease, I march onward, trying my hardest to stay ahead of Jay. Honestly, it's a worthless effort because his legs are longer than mine.

"You're still mad at me," he observes. I quicken my pace, but he catches up again.

"C'mon Linen, I didn't even go that far," he protests. I whirl around to tell him exactly how far I'm willing to go into a string of curses, but when I open my mouth to speak, only a horrid rasping noise comes out. In a panic, I clutch my throat as Jay howls with laughter. Enraged, I try to shove him but he only moves about an inch.

"Idiot," I rasp, stomping off into the wasteland without him. But like an annoying shadow, he's back at my side, still snickering to himself. I resign myself to his idiocy, and we keep moving through the eerie forest of fallen trees and churned up earth. Jay occasionally stops to have a sip of water, which clears up my throat right away.

"Really Linen, I'm sorry. But there's no need to hit me," he reminds. I sigh, and manage to get out that I'm sorry.

"You can't stay mad at me," he smirks, I playfully shove him. Instead of running up on a lake, we find the river. Except it's not a river anymore. Swollen with muddy chocolate water and pieces of tree, the river is not safe to cross. A whole tree swiftly drifts by. I look at Jay beside me. His eyes seem panicked. The I recall that this was how Gaylynn died, and suddenly I feel panicked too. The earth trembles again, and I grab Jay tightly as red hot panic shoots through me. After the shaking stops I let go of Jay and plop on the ground.

"That freaks you out, huh?" Jay seems to be less panicked when the earth rolls and shakes.

"I was in a tree," I point out. "And it's just freaky." He nods and sits beside me as we watch the turmoil of the brown water.

"We didn't hear any canons," he notes.

"They must've been safe," I add. Jay's eyes continue to flash with nerves as we watch the river more. He misses Gaylynn. I miss her too.

"You miss her," I say quietly. Jay doesn't meet my eyes, but continues to stare. He sighs and rakes a few fingers through his hair.

"Yeah," I sighs. "I do." Awkward silence follows. I'm no good with awkward, so I ask Jay if he'll help with my snarled hair. He assents, and he sits behind me and starts working a few tangles with his fingers.

"Ow," I yelp as he starts gently tugging a burr.

"Sorry," he mumbles, while giving the burr a stiff yank. Jay tries his best not to hurt me, but the burs are so woven into my hair that he is forced to do a lot of yanking and pulling to set me free. I'm astounded at the sheer number of sharp thorns and burs that he pulls from my tangled hair.

"This one won't come," Jay grunts, giving the burr another stiff yank. My eyes water as he continues to pull. He's being as gentle as possible, but he's gonna have to do some pulling to get it out.

"Linen, I think I may need to cut it out," he mutters wryly. "If I pull anymore your scalp will come with it." For a few vain seconds, I think about what my hair will look like with one piece that's shorter than all the others. Then I also remember that my time is rather limited, so the state of my hair won't matter anyway.

"Do what you need to do," I sigh. Moments later, Jay takes a knife to my hair and detaches the bur.

"That's the last one," he says, standing up and rubbing his hands together. "We should set up camp." I run a few fingers through my hair and grab the backpack. We select a spot several yards from the riverbank, and I start setting up the shelter. Both tarps are now riddled with holes from acid rain. I end up building a huge mattress of pine branches, then set a tarp on top of it. The other tarp is strung up through the trees to create a roof. By the time I've finished, Jay's set up a fire, and has left to go set up snares nearby. A familiar ripple of hunger alerts me to my need for food as I fill up the water container from the river. As I crouch to fill up the container, something inside me says to look up.

My eyes land right on a slender bow, then a quiver of arrows. Jewel is carefully picking her way along the opposite riverbank, with an arrow strung and drawn back, ready to shoot anything that may cross her path. Rapid-fire calculations lead me to determine that the river is only 30 feet wide, and I've witnessed Jewel hit a moving target from 50 feet away. Thusly, I will probably turn into a pincushion in a few moments. Suddenly her icy blue eyes land right on me, and my heart jumps into my throat. Electricity and tension crackles through the air as we examine each other. She looks well fed for being in a televised fight to the death. Patchy acid burns decorate her hands. Muscles in her arms ripple as she pulls back the bow, still pointing the arrow at the ground. We spoke in training. I enjoyed her company. I thought we might've been friends. That's pretty much what I'm banking on right now.

"Linen!" Jewel hears the shout and points her bow in the general direction. Turning my head, I see Jaylor running towards me, knife in one hand. He crawls beside me and tries to shield me from Jewel.

"Stay down," he hisses. Instead of shooting us, Jewel waves hello, as if greeting old friends.

"Hiya," she calls, a crooked and playful smile sitting coyly on her lips. I stand up and wave back, much to Jay's chagrin.

"Hello there," I shout back. Jewel places the arrow back in her quiver. Now I understand why she won't shoot me. She's down to 5 arrows, and it will be impossible to retrieve the two it would take to kill Jaylor and I.

"Fancy meeting you here, Linny," she smiles. "I haven't seen anyone in days." Jaylor stands up slowly, knife still clutched in one fist.

"Well, if it isn't the mighty Jaylor," she teases, shooting me a sly wink.

"Hello Jewel," he remarks.

"He's so boring," she smirks. "I'd better move on."

"Really? Well, goodbye then," I wave.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," she quips, then vanishes into the trees like she was never there.

"That was odd," Jay snorts. "And she could've shot you."

"Whatever," I shug, which I know gets on Jay's nerves like no other. As we walk back to our little shelter, I hear the most horrible yell. Jay hears it too, and glances in the direction of the sound. Another yell rings though the trees, filled with anguish and oddly enough, a challenge. Dropping the water container, I run in the direction of the sound.

"Linen, no," Jay yells, and immediately starts running after me as a howl fills the air, not quite human and not quite beast. For whatever reason, I must find out where the sound is coming from. So I run, legs and arms pumping, lungs burning. I run until I burst into a small meadow. Out of breath, I barely notice Jay grabbing my hand and trying to drag me away. Away from what?

I glance across the meadow, and I am given the answer. Pearl is desperately fighting off a monster. The monster looks remarkably like a cougar, but the claws and teeth are far too long. The monster is bleeding from numerous wounds, but so is Pearl. She dodges, but it swipes her right across the gut. Gasping for air, she collapses on the ground, but not before she plunges a knife in it's shoulder blade. A ghastly scream rips out of the creature that makes every hair on my body stand at attention. Jay and I seem almost frozen to the grass, unable to move or look away as the canon fires.

With eyes that glow like torches, the monster locks his gaze on us. Jay seems to stop breathing.

"Stay safe Linen," my mother wept as Peacekeepers dragged her from the room. "Please be careful!"

 _This is all your fault,_ I think as Jay's grip tightens and the creature's tail lashes back and forth. Escape is impossible. Panem will get a good show.


	19. Red, The Blood of a Brave Man

"Linen," Jay hisses. "I want you to run for the trees. You know what to do." The beast is only 40 feet away. The tree line is only 20 feet away. I could make it, if I moved fast. But what about him? What about Jay? Why isn't he running with me? Why?

"What about you?" His eyes flash with pain, but then I see a hauntingly familiar look that I cannot place. His jaw sets, he's determined to do something. Swallowing hard, I feel something selfless well up inside me. I could run toward the beast. Give Jay enough time to run away. It could work. He would hate me for it. He doesn't know how far I'll go. But my legs are water, and my feet are bricks.

"I'll be okay," he whispers, a small and sad smile making my heart skip a few beats. Will he? Jay has given me so much already. I'm certain he won't give me anymore than he already has. That's...unthinkable. Just go for the trees, I think. He's not stupid, he'll follow you.

"I can't," I stammer. "I won't leave you." He sighs, tightening his grip on the knife. There's no time for this. He lets go of my hand, and I feel rather unsteady on my own.

"Please," he begs. "Just go!" So I run. I run towards the safety of the trees. I run till I reach the first spindly pine. I scramble up the tree, to what I judge is a safe distance off the ground.

"Linen Davenport," Theodosia trilled. What? Panic shot through me. The earth seemed to sway beneath me as the crowd of girls parted around me. I never thought it would be me.

"I'm so sorry," Dimity whimpered as Peacekeepers surrounded me. My head spun, and my legs turned to water. The Peacekeepers practically dragged me onstage as I struggled to make sense of what exactly happened. As I stood onstage, I scanned the crowd of gray faces. My mother sobbed, clinging to my father like a lifeline. Dimity and Scarlet dissolved into utter hysterics.

"Jaylor," I call. "C'mon." Back in the present, Jay doesn't move. The beast does. It slowly stalks towards him. Jay doesn't even flinch. All at once, I understand. I understand completely. The look in his eyes is the same look Gaylynn had, right before she let go. It's an unforgettable look, yet I forgot. He has more to give.

More? How is that possible? He's going to do it. He's sacrificing himself. My breath comes in frantic bursts. He can't possibly...if he does, I'll lose my mind. I just found him. I can't bear to lose him again. My mind whirls when I think of all the important things I haven't told him. I know he'll do it. His jaw is set tightly. His grip on the knife is tight. He's crouched in a fighting stance.

"Jaylor no," I beg. I know exactly what will happen. The beast may be wounded, but sometimes being wounded just makes creatures angrier. I should know, being a rather wounded creature myself.

"Stay in the tree," he commands as the beast charges toward him. Jay remains calm. He gracefully sidesteps right and slashes the blade. A thin line of blood seeps out of the cut, staining the monster's fur crimson. It swipes. Jay ducks. The beast rears up and goes for Jay's throat. I scream.

Jay knocks it aside with his forearm, which leaves four parallel lines of blood. The beast swipes him in the ankle. Jay staggers slightly and plunges the knife between its shoulder blades. That horrible howl fills the air again. I breath a sigh of half relief. The odds may be in his favor.

"Gentlemen next," Theodosia chirped, inserting an well-manicured hand into the glass bowl and selecting a single piece of paper. I could barely keep my knees from buckling as I searched the crowd for someone who I could trust to keep me alive. She could've pulled out a 12 year old merchant's kid who'd never worked a day in his life. Or a 18 year old brute who'd practically grown up in a factory.

"Jaylor Hearthwind," she called. Immediately, anguished sobs rang out from the crowd. As Jay dutifully marched towards the stage, his youngest sister Gloria tried to grab his hand. He whispered something to her, then let go. He somehow managed to keep walking onstage as Gloria sobbed even louder.

I jerk my thoughts away from the cloudy past just in time to see it. Honestly, I feel it coming. Jay is knocked over by the beast. As he tries to fight his way back upright, the unthinkable happens. With a demonic howl, the beast raises it's claws and slashes Jaylor right across the throat.

Time freezes. Jay lets out a howl of agony. A panicked scream rips from my throat as he sinks to the ground. My heart has gone from nearly stopped to racing like a bullet. My breath, which came so easily, is now coming in short little huffs.

The beast looms over his body like a cloud of death. Hysterically, I begin screaming and throwing pinecones at it. The beast looks at me, then bolts.

As blood pours out of his wound like a crimson fountain, it darts off across the meadow and into the trees. Frantically, I start climbing down the tree, screeching his name. I must get to him. The blood is gushing out of his throat and left shoulder, he'll bleed out soon if I don't do something.

"Linen, no," he rasps, eyes squeezed shut tightly. "Stay in the tree." It takes all I have in me to remain perched just 5 feet off the ground. I know why he's telling me this. If the beast comes back, I'll be defenseless. My sewing kit is back at the camp. I can't sew my way out of this one.

"Take a closer look," Saffron demanded. "What do you see?"

"The gashes are too deep and wide," I stammered. "Why would you show me this?" She turned and looked me dead in the eye.

"Because not everything can be sewn back together. Sometimes, you've just got to keep the thread in your pocket, and let them have their last moments in peace." Even then I couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of someone dying on my watch. Now I can't understand it at all.

Jay starts coughing up blood, his time running out. My mind whirls. I remember hearing about an accident in District 8. A boy cut his throat while trying to repair a machine. He choked to death on his own blood. With that thought ringing in my head, I throw myself out of the tree and stumble to his side.

"Hold my hand," I demand weakly, grabbing his. I'm surprised by how strong his grip is, even when he's right on death's doorstep. I have no control over this, and I hate that feeling so much.

"Sorry," he rasps, pausing only to cough up more blood.

His face has turned chalky white. He's in pain. His eyes settle on me, and they are filled with satisfaction. Satisfaction? I've seen that look before. It's the look he gave me when I scored a 6. The look he has when he walks home with two loaves of bread tucked under his arms. It's the small celebration for a job well done.

I will never be satisfied.

"Why did you do that?" My voice is a sob.

"You're welcome," he croaks, his voice is so weak. I start to cry. He just smiles. Like a lightening bolt, a memory flashes into my mind.

"Rhodrick," I blurt helplessly. "That's your middle name." He gives a nearly imperceptible nod. The grip on my hand is slacking.

"Don't you dare," I stammer. "Don't you dare leave me here." Suddenly I realize the only thing keeping his hand up is my grip.

Straining my ears and holding my breath, I listen for his next breath.

Silence roars in my ears like a hurricane.

"Please take a breath," I whimper. "Please."

 **Cannon fire answers me, so cruel and heartless.**

Tears spring to my eyes. I imagined death so much it feels more like a memory. And this time it didn't get me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your District 8 tributes," Theodosia announced gleefully. No applause followed, the only sound was our weeping friends and family.

"Don't clap for the dead," Jay whispered, so quietly I could barely make out what he was saying. It struck me as a very remarkable thing to utter.

In the present, I wait for the earth to stop spinning. I wait for my mind to break. I feel my heart slowly cracking, but not broken. I feel very battered, but still whole.

Don't panic, I think, trying very hard to keep the thread that holds my sanity from snapping. Holding back tears, I slowly stand up and promptly trip on the slick blood. My face lands in a pool of it. This is not animal blood. This is not one of my nightmares. This is my worst fear come true. And it's gory, horrifying, and sickening.

With that, my heart breaks into millions of tiny pieces and I start sobbing hysterically.

He's gone.

He's dead.

He's left me.

I'm alone.

Again.

Sobs wrack my frail body as I curl up in a small ball on the ground. Blood is everywhere.

My hands.

My face.

My heart.

Like a broken TV, my mind replays the slash of claws over and over again.

He promised. He broke his promise.

He saved me. He destroyed me.

He gave me a chance. He blew my chances.

He gave. He took.

I feel weak, like a castaway. What feels like either a pounding headache or a weak migraine is settling at the back of my head. Either way, it hurts like my heart does.

"What are we gonna do?"

"Survive, I guess," he remarked, as we waited to go to the train station. "We've got to try and win." For what seems like years, all I can do is cry. Cry for what was lost and what was found. Cry for him.

"You've got to move," I whisper, already coming apart at the seems from being alone. Feeling older than this lifetime, I slowly get to my feet. Then I pry the knife from his hands, a task that leaves my eyes swimming with tears. My eyes land on his token.

The bracelet. Something selfish wells inside me.

I need it.

I must have it, a reminder of what I lost, found, and lost.

I carefully untie it, and fasten it on my own wrist. It's much too big but I take it anyway. His family will never forgive me. Not today. Maybe not ever.

I troop back to the camp. I feel empty and numb as I watch the hovercraft lift him away. He's gone for good. He will return home in a simple wooden casket. No extra money for his family. No condolences. Just a dead boy in a box.

Everything reminds me of him as I sit and stare at the woods. Blue sky. Jay wore blue at the reaping and the interviews. It always looked so becoming on him. Gray clouds. Dark and stormy words could flow from him, but so could bright and calm ones, like the sun. The river is the turmoil that churned inside him that I didn't see until just a few moments ago. Pine trees are his tall and protective nature, always looking out for others. There's no need for dreaming about him. It just hurts.

"Your partner seems to be rather fond of you," Margaret observed casually, as she adjusted my parade headdress.

"We're just friends," I smiled.

"Keep him close, love," she advised. "Friends are the people you need the most." What I wouldn't give for a few minutes with him. I can't cry anymore. I've run out of tears. Evening is coming on swift and icy feet to the arena. I decide to stay here. This is the last camp I will make. The temperature plummets sharply.

Jay left his coat hanging from a tree branch. Snow starts to fall like white cotton from the sky. Without hesitation, I put on his jacket, which is too big for me, but keeps me warm.

The last time I saw snow in District 8 was a year ago. They shut down school, but not the factories, which meant Jay had intentions of pulling a full 24 hour shift. I was going to deliver a piece of embroidery to the factory foreman, the very same foreman whom Jay worked for. I delivered some mittens and bread to Jay, a care package his mom has asked me to send. Jay hugged me, then went back inside.

Why did he make such a sacrifice today? Why? He was tired of giving. That's why he left me. Realization hits me like a ton of bricks, though I sit at my all time low.

"He couldn't lose another friend," I gasp, sitting bolt upright. He watched Gaylynn die. He was helpless. There was nothing he could do. He saw right through me. He thought I would give my life for his. That's why he made me climb the tree. Deep down inside of me, I really thought he would join me in the tree.

I thought he was tired of making sacrifices.

I was wrong.

I miscalculated.

Now I'm scared to be lonely. As I finish my earth-shattering contemplation, the Capitol anthem blares into the night. Pearl's face is the first I see. No smile, but her eyes gleam with confidence and snark. I steel myself for what comes next. Jaylor's face fills the sky. His eyes are filled with worry, but also that same satisfactory look. A job well done. The anthem blares on for a few moments longer, but I wish it would stop.

Here without you, I think. I'm weathered and faded. I'm not okay at heart. But I have to be so I can survive. But is that what I wanna do? Live through this, then go home and face a district full of people who don't understand? What would Jay tell me to do?

Stay alive.

Somehow, he'd want me to live through this. After all, he gave himself up to buy me more time, but there's only...8 left. My lord, there's only 8. One of them is Septimus. I'm fairly sure most of those still living wouldn't hesitate to kill me. Night falls quickly, as does the snow. Sleep overcomes me.

My dream is peaceful. I sail on a boat with Rosemary.

"Where are you steering us?" She asks, adjusting a rope thingy.

"To the place where the song comes from," I call. Sure enough, a haunting and lilting voice lightly skims over the water, singing beautiful songs I've never heard. On and on we sail, the voice is always just out of reach. Stars fill the sky but they pale in comparison to the voice that calls me onward. Rosemary begs me to go back. I ignore her. Finally, the voice becomes so loud it makes my ears ring. Rosemary screams in pain, blood seeps out of her ears. Onward I sail till I see and island in the distance.

Rosemary begs me not to go ashore. I ignore her as she slumps to the deck, most likely dead.

"I'm here," I scream, throwing myself ashore, not even bothering to anchor the boat. Rosemary is dead after all, but I couldn't care less. I know who's waiting for me on the island. But my feet sink in the sand. The voice is quiet now, I can barely hear it. I can't reach it. On and on it sings. My punishment is to sit and hear the voice, but not see the singer.

I wake up with a jolt, tears trickling down my face and my throat hoarse. I know who was singing, I think as I survey the world of powdery white around me. Chilly air assaults my lungs and my breath comes out in steamy cloud. Aching all over, I remember that Jay set snares somewhere.

My motivation to find them is just as elusive as the voice from my dream, so I simply lay in my shelter for a long while. I want to give up, but then I remember that he bought me more time, so I might as well use it. Jay's jacket keeps me warm as I troop off to find the snares. I avoid the clearing. I don't need to go back there. Surprisingly, I manage to find one. A rabbit has been caught so I return to my camp,

humming a jaunty little tune to myself. I see a huge plume of smoke in the trees.

I didn't start a fire this morning. Only some live coals remained, certainly not enough to make that much smoke. Throwing caution to the wind, I sprint back to camp to find a huge fire blazing. A familiar blonde is roasting a fish.

"Rosemary," I call, jogging towards her.

"Linen," she greets, standing up to meet me. She throws her arms around me, and we hug for a long time.

"I saw Jay last night," she sighs. "I'm so sorry." Swallowing back tears, I reassure her that I'm fine.

"If that's what you want me to believe," she says, motioning for me to join her at the fire. We share the fish that tastes of mud and leaves. Rosemary recalls the trials she went through after I departed. Strange bruises ring her neck, the same size and shape as...fingerprints.

"Rosemary, what happened to your neck?" Her lovely eyes surge with fear as she absentmindedly runs a hand over her neck. Swallowing hard, she stops eating and looks at me.

"I was fishing," she begins. "All by my lonesome, no one in sight. I waded out to a rock a few feet from the bank so I could catch fish in the deeper waters. Someone came up behind me and…" Her hand shakes. Her breathing quickens.

"They pulled me under," she gulps, avoiding my gaze. "The river was so deep...I couldn't get my head up...their hand was around my neck." Pangs of sympathy make my heart hurt.

"Do you know who...?" I don't really want to finish my question.

"I never did get a good look," she admits. "I elbowed them in the gut and swam downstream. By the time I got back, everything I had on the bank was gone." She sighs and stares at the river.

"I think it was Alto," she whispers. "No one else can swim like that...and he told me to get lost so he doesn't consider me...his partner." Tears are pricking the corners of her eyes.

"Oh Rosemary," I breathe. "I'm so...sorry." She wipes her eyes and insists that she's fine. I don't press any more. We finish scarfing down her fish.

"I'm assuming you're gonna stay here," Rosemary says.

"Yeah, there's no reason to really move," I admit. Rosemary then tells me about a berry patch a quarter mile from here. She volunteers to go pick some, and assures me that they're not deadly. With that, she takes the plastic container to fill and the sharp stick she's been using for a spear.

I decide to stay at camp. We're running low on water anyways. I walk the 30 feet from the camp to the river with a heavy heart. How could Alto do something like that? If he survives, every person in District 4 will hate him. Leisurely, I sit and fill up the water container, enjoying the snowy landscape. I've nothing to hurry me.

Like a gunshot, a stick cracks, alerting me to someone's presence. Whipping my head around, I see no one, but now I'm on edge. Another stick cracks, this time I pull my knife from my coat pocket and glance upstream. I glance upstream to see a nightmare come true.

Copper hair. Freckles. Crooked smile. Tattered clothes. Wild eyes. Thin and covered in scars. Septimus is 20 feet upstream. Panic surges through me, I tighten the grip on my knife. He's got no weapons. Maybe he just wants to talk. That can't be true, but who knows. I'm about to say his name when I see it.

There's a pointed rock, about the size of my hand, clutched in his fist.


	20. I Only Hear the Dead

I have two choices. I could remain still and take my chance with him. Or I could run. Run for the trees and climb one. Maybe he'll just take my stuff and leave me be. Then it occurs to me that he killed two other girls. Gaylynn and Ash. They did not deserve it.

They died because they were in his way.

I'm in his way.

But what about in training? He wanted me as an ally...and yet I was too loyal to Jay to join him. How much does he resent me for it? My guess is a lot. Septimus never seemed like the type to forget things. After all, not only did I refuse him, I shut him down in front of everyone in Panem.

Maybe his affections will bring me agony.

Holding my breath, I slowly rise to my feet. I never take my eyes off him. Not even for a second. I leave the water container. He doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just keeps smiling that same crooked, crazy smile. _He's lost his mind,_ I think. Sooner or later, Septimus will do something. And I'm not fast. I need surprise on my side.

I wish Jaylor was here.

So I run. I run as if the devil himself is chasing me. I hear his feet pounding down on the ground behind me. I kick it into high gear. My feet fly faster than I ever thought I could.

"C'mon Linen," Scarlet called, dashing down the street. "You're so slow."

"I'll catch up," I wheezed, completely out of breath.

But it's not enough. My best running is never enough. Septimus is so much faster than me. I'm just 5 feet from the tree line when he strikes. Tackles me in the legs. My breath is knocked out of me. He flips me over and pins my arms down with his knees. He's got the same look of satisfaction in his eyes that Jaylor had.

I will never be satisfied.

Raw adrenaline shoots through me. I scream louder than ever before. Can a scream travel a quarter mile? Doesn't matter, he clamps a hand over my throat, thus cutting off my air and blurring my vision. I catch sight of the rock. Another scream, this one rather muffled, rips out of my throat. A wicked grin stretches wide across his lips.

"Hello Miss Davenport," he grins, sounding much too excited about murdering me. Numb with terror, I'm unable to writhe or thrash like I ought to. I wish Jay was here. He'd protect me. Septimus keeps his hand over my throat, and just stares at me.

"Heard about your boyfriend," he jeers. Enraged, I try to unseat him but he's so much heavier than me. How dare he talk about Jaylor like that!

"Murderer," I rasp. With that, the smirk slips. His eyes narrow. The wild look sharpens into something far deadlier. He hefts the stone and slams it into...my right shoulder.

Something crunches. White hot pain shoots through me. I very nearly black out as my vision tunnels. My shoulder starts to throb. I feel a massive bruise forming. Tears well up in my eyes. His hand leaves my throat, and I scream until he clamps it back down.

"Say that again," he snarls. "I dare you." Though I have many nasty things to say to him, I force myself to stop talking. Raw agony throbs through me with every heartbeat. Septimus cruelly takes his other hand and starts pressing on the break. Tears stream out of my eyes as I let out a strangled gasp.

"Just get it over with," I sob, my voice strangled by his hand.

"I'll go as slow as I like," he sneers. More pressure is applied. My eyes squeeze shut.

"Linen!" My eyes fly open. Septimus's head snaps upward. Somewhere, very far off, is Rosemary. Relief washes through me. But it's short lived. Septimus is picking up the rock again. Then I remember my knife. Quickly, I rotate it through my fingers so it's pointed right at his thigh. He takes a deep breath. I do too, and promptly stab him.

With a howl, his leg lifts off my hand long enough for me to get it out. I pull the knife out.

I have seconds to act.

I waste one precious second thinking of what Jay would think of me.

Septimus's hand slips over my eyes.

I make the only choice I have. I stab him again. But this time, it's fatal. And I'm fairly certain it's his throat.

Blood spurts out, right onto my face. I scream, only to get a mouthful of it. I squeeze my eyes shut.

Septimus lays dying right on top of me, too heavy to push off. This must be what hell feels like. Death, blood, and the dying.

Blood covers my face, choking me.

Eons drift by. There is nothing but blood. Rosemary is shouting for me. A cannon fires. I hear her run to my side. She yanks Septimus off of me.

"Right shoulder," I gasp. "Rock." She says nothing, and walks me back to the river. She washes off my face with some snow and river water.

"You can open your eyes now," she says. A world of ice and snow greets me. My shoulder throbs. I'm alive. Barely alive.

"I think you're shoulder's broken," Rosemary warns. The hovercraft comes and scoops up Septimus. I breathe a little easier when it vanishes. Everything around me seems impossibly colorful and bright.

I'm lucky.

No I'm not.

"I killed him," I whimper, guilt stabbing me in the heart.

"Linen, he was attacking you," Rosemary points out. "It was self-defense."

"I killed him," I repeat. Rosemary walks me back over to the shelter. I lay down and wrap up the the blanket. My shoulder throbs. Rosemary focuses on cleaning the rabbit.

"You did the right thing." Gaylynn's voice, so distinct and clear, rings in my mind.

"Yeah, it was self-defense," Pearl adds.

"Just get over it," Ajax snorts. "It's no big deal."

"No one blames you, Linen," Ash reassures. A chorus of fallen voices invades my mind. I only hear the dead. I don't like it. _Get out of my head,_ I command, but the symphony of fallen tributes continues.

"I deserved it," Septimus puts in. _No you didn't,_ I think. On and on they tell me to get over it. Rosemary tries to get me to eat.

"You're white as chalk, Linen," she sighs. "If you eat something, you'll feel better." I ignore her. By now, Gaylynn is ranting about Septimus and giving me a pounding headache in the process. Ash joins her, calling Septimus a murderer and a scoundrel to boot.

"Linen, is something wrong?" I barely hear Rosemary. The voices are too loud. On and on and-

"Linen," Rosemary shrieks, grabbing my hand and shaking it. The voices fade to a dull murmur. "What's the matter with you?" I blink. I'd forgotten all about Rosemary. I've never had someone make such a fuss over me. She waits impatiently for me to respond. I can't tell her I hear dead people. She'll think I'm...crazy.

"Eat this," she demands, shoving a warm piece of rabbit into my hands. "And make sure you eat the berries too." Wordlessly, I eat the rabbit. I don't even taste it. I eat the berries and taste nothing as well.

The fallen, unaware of how much I despise their voices, start discussing things in my head. The fact that I only hear dead people frightens me.

"I'm losing my mind," I whisper.

"Did you say something?" Rosemary pokes her head into the shelter, a knife in one hand and her newly sharpened spear in the other.

"No," I lie. Rosemary goes back to sharpening. The sun starts dipping soon after. I dread the night. The voices don't let up. Rosemary crawls in with me. The anthem plays. I don't watch it. My shoulder's pain does not let up.

"There's no need for watches," Rosemary mumbles, already falling asleep. "There's only 7 of us left." Rosemary's out like a light soon after. I lay in the dark. I stare at the tarp. Like a little kid, I'm too scared to fall asleep. But I do, despite the unrelenting pain in my shoulder. It's been an exhausting day.

"I vote yes," Gaylynn snaps. The dead tributes and I are seated around a table. In the corner is a guillotine, next to that is Septimus in chains.

"Yes to what?" They all turn to look at me.

"Linen, we're voting on his death," Pearl snaps, exasperated by my apparent nonsense.

"I agree," Ajax spats. "Off with his head!"

"Where's Jaylor?"

"He's not coming," Jonquil says. "Now let's just kill him." I try to stop them, but they're out for blood, and some unseen force has rooted me to the chair. I hear the guillotine. They all let up a mighty cheer, for the murderer is dead.

"Now for Linen," Ajax smirks, grabbing me by the arm. "The other murderer!"

I wake up in a total panic with dull pain shooting through my broken shoulder. Fortunately, I'm not being beheaded. Rosemary is still sleeping. I crawl outside and add more wood to the fire, while eating a handful of berries. Voices start up again. I can't silence them this time. Suddenly, like a light cutting through the fog, Jay's voice rings clearly.

"Leave her be! She's suffered enough!" _Thank you,_ I think, wiping a tear from my eye.

"Murder is still murder," Jay continues. "And there are no winners in these games." With that, Jay goes silent. Complete silence fills my head. It's rather refreshing.

No winners? I ponder this as Rosemary crawls out of the tent.

"Morning," she yawns, helping herself to leftover rabbit.

"Rosemary, I don't think that the last one standing really wins," I blurt. She gives me a confused look.

"Yes they do," she counters. "They get money and a nice house." I decide to say no more.

"Linen, I think I should make you a sling," Rosemary decides. "Do you mind if I use the blanket?"

"Go ahead," I say. Getting my shoulder in the sling hurts like heck. I'm glad it's over when it's over.

"C'mon," Rosemary says, standing up. "I'll show you where the berry patch is, then you can pick while I hunt." The quarter mile walk is short. Rosemary points to the berry bushes.

"These are the ones," she smiles.

"Alrighty," I say, preparing to pick the juicy looking berries.

"I should be back before noon," she warns. "If I'm not, go back to camp. I'll meet you there."

"Don't go too far," I warn as she jogs off, taking my knife.

"I won't," she calls over her shoulder. Immediately after she leaves, I have a desperate urge to run after her. But I can handle being alone for a few hours. Then again...the last time I was left alone, Septimus came. That didn't end well. The voices start up again, sans Jay, and they torment me nonstop.

"I personally think he's a villain," Jonquil declares.

"I agree," Adeline says. "He's a player and a liar!"

Several tributes let loose bursts of colorful profanities that I'm not inclined to repeat. I can't say I disagree with them as I pick berries. I think I eat more than I pick, but whatever. I'm hungry.

"Linen did the right thing," Crayson says.

"Yeah," Mitch agrees.

"No I didn't," I mumble aloud, reaching for another berry.

Suddenly, something happens. Yet, nothing happens. The voices silence. The noises of the forest silence. Not a single sound, save for my breathing, ripples through the air. I wait for something horrible. My stomach pitches. What is coming?

Snow starts to fall. It's so slow and soft. The snow sticks to the ground. The wind picks up. Snowflakes go from falling to hurtling out of the sky. Finally it turns into a deadly thing that I've only ever heard about in school.

A blizzard.

Sunshine is gone. Gray clouds have blocked it. I have to get back to camp. But which way is...oh no. Somehow, I've forgotten which way I've come. White swirls around me. I stumble forward. Brambles scratch me in the face. That's not right. I turn left and begin slowly walking.

"Now class," Mrs. Bluecreek instructed. "A blizzard is not a thing to be trifled with. Can anyone tell me why?" Resident know-it-all Parramatta Vinedawn's hand shot into the air.

"Yes?"

"The thick falling snow limits your vision," she recited. "And the cold can cause hypothermia, which means your body is so cold, it shuts down." Needless to say, this memory does not comfort me, because Parramatta never did say how one survives a blizzard. How inconvenient. I can't even see my own hand in front of my face in this gale. Snow and wind whips me in the face like a lash. My hands are losing circulation. My face is numb. I've never been so grateful for a second coat. Jaylor's keeping me alive in more ways than one.

I wish he was here with me. He'd know what to do. I walk right into a tree. My right arm is worthless. I plop down and crawl under the branches.

I don't know where I am.

The wind still pummels me.

The air is still frigid.

I have no tools

No blanket.

No fire.

I'm going to die.


	21. Alone In the Cold Snow

Strangely enough, I'm not too bothered by this. I'm gonna die at some point, may as well do it quickly. Frigid air seem to be icing my lungs. Numbness has invaded my hands, feet, and face. Shivers wrack my thin body. My teeth chatter together. My hands are turning white. It's rather peaceful. I worry for Rosemary. What will happen if she doesn't find me in time? I hope she doesn't blame herself.

Now that I'm thinking about it, this is an infuriating way to die. Exposure. People in District 8 die of exposure every winter. I don't even get a hero's death. I get the death of the little girl who got on the train. Jay looked heroic when he died. Everyone probably shed tears and swooned at his...amazingness. Now they're just going to want me to hurry up and die already.

"Wait here," The peacekeeper snarled, shoving me into an empty room, save for a chair occupied by Jaylor. His face was still chalk white. His eyes were rimmed with red. I was an utter disaster. Tear tracks still trickled down my face. Finally, I pulled myself together and we sat in the eerie quiet.

Eerie quiet. It's so quiet right now. I'm getting sleepier.

"What are we gonna do?"

"Survive, I guess," he remarked, as we waited to go to the train station. "We've got to try and

win." I hope that's what he said. My memory seems rather foggy.

"We're dead," Jay continued. "We've survived this God-forsaken district and now we're dead." I'm almost dead too.

"And we got all dressed up for it too," I added. He looked shocked that I had the capacity to speak without a shake in my voice. Shaking. My mind is shaking. So is the picture. The world around me. Shaking.

"The odds are stacked against us," I sighed. May the odds be ever in your favor. They were in my favor for a few days. I've been laying here awhile. It feels like days. But it's not.

"So we beat the odds."

"What?"

"We'll make the odds fall in our favor," he declared, jumping to his feet. "We'll do everything we can to make them notice us and make ourselves winners." An insane bubble of musical laughter bursts out of me. Then tears trickle down my cheeks. I'm laughing. I'm crying. It feels like I'm dying.

"Jay I-" He dropped to his knees and stared at me, eye to eye. We always seem to get eye to eye when we argue. Sometimes I dream about it. Sweet sleepy dreams...

"If we try," he whispered. "We can go back home."

Home. Never in my life have I been so far from it. And never in my life have I not wanted to return. I can't go back. I won't go back. Dimity and Scarlett want me to come back. My parents want me to come back. My thoughts fall apart as I clutch a pine cone between my fingers. I'm sleepy. It's hard to think. But I'm not going back. If I somehow survive this, I'll just die later. There's no way I'm winning these games, I've come a lot closer to it than I originally thought. But I'm not winning. I won't let myself. Sleep beckons me. I think I should stay awake.

The icy wind chills me to the bone. My hands have gone numb, turned pure white from the chill. I'm so cold, I don't have the strength to shiver. I curl up into a ball to conserve heat. It's not working. Nothing's working. Especially not my mind. My mind is all befuddled.

"Get up," Ajax screams in my head. Ajax the swordsman. Ajax the murderer. He always made me nervous. Arms that could snap me in half. Huge hands. Deadly calm eyes. I see him now. So tired. So sleepy.

"You can make it if you keep moving," Pearl shouts. "Move!" I slur a few choice curses under my breath at the beautifully powerful 13 year old. She could kill a man with those eyes.

"C'mon Linen, you've got to try," Gaylynn begs. Gaylynn. Ring around the rosies, a pocketful of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down. Fell down into the canyon. The murky water.

"No," I slur quietly. "I'm tired." The voices stop abruptly. Thinking is hard. I try to piece together what would happen if I won. They'd patch me up, and make me beautiful again. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I'm beautiful. I'm pretty. Thorn Rookwood would interview me, and I'd be forced to watch a 3 hour recap of the games. I kinda like TV. But I'd go home, get a new house, and enough money to sink a ship. Ship. I'd like to see the ocean someday.

"Other tributes," I whisper. I'd be a mentor till the day I died. Nope. I'd rather die right now than watch 2 kids die every year. I'm already broken. Broken mentally, because I'm having a very hard time remembering why I'm beneath this tree. Why should I break again?

Once, when I was just starting out, I went to a client's house and they showed me their most prized possession. It was a glass vase. Simple and elegant, yes. But also cracked and chipped. She said she could no longer handle it because one touch and it would shatter again. One more traumatic event, and I'll shatter again.

The world begins to grow a little grayer before my eyes. The sun is coming out, but it's too late for me. I'm a goner. Can't move my limbs. I'm so exhausted. I'd just like to take a nap. Closing my eyes would be so good right now. It's so hard to catch my breath, like I'm sprinting through the forest. Can barely keep my eyes open. My head swims with dizziness, the world is spinning like a top. So tired. So lonely. So very cold. My heart hurts. Real pain, not heartbreak pain.

Ring around the rosies...

"Linen! Where are you?" Someone is shouting for me. But who? My mind is having trouble stitching thoughts together. Can't remember. So tired. Sunshine in my eyes. Who's calling?

A pocketful of posies...

"Rosemary," I slur, my tongue refuses to work. I hear footsteps sprinting towards me. Sleep is calling me. So cold. And tired. And cold.

"Linen," she exclaims, yanking me by the left arm. Blackness closes in around me. I can't hear her anymore.

Ashes, ashes...

"You should never jar a person with hypothermia," Zibeline Canarynorth piped up. "It can stop their heart in extreme cases."

We all fall down

Everything is black.

I imagined my death so much. It always haunted me. This is where it gets me. On the ground. Right in front of me. I saw it coming. I let it be. There's no beat, no melody. Rosemary. My good friend, always with me. The last face I'll ever see. This is how they'll remember me. The icy cold is my legacy. Legacy. What is a legacy? It's planting seeds in a garden you'll never get to see. I once sang I song I hope someone will sing for me. My life's a great unfinished symphony. Please sing for me. I didn't make a difference. I lived in bitter ignorance and selfishness. So cold. I'm running out of time and my time's old. Thoughts mulled. Eyes fold. I catch a glimpse of the other side. Jaylor makes bracelets on the other side. Gaylynn's on the other side, she's with Ash on the other side. Ajax and Pearl are watching from the other side. I've been taught how to say goodbye. So cold. So cold. So cold. Jaylor! My love I've arrived. No more secrets and lies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

My eyes fly open. It's a miracle. How am I not…? I must be dead. I stand on a concrete porch. In front of me, a door. To my left and right, patio. Behind me, gray fog. I am dressed in black pants and a brand new white shirt. Jay's token slides down my wrist as I knock on the door. I wait with baited breath. The door creaks open. Gaylynn stands there. Well-fed. Healthy. Whole. White shirt, black pants. She throws her arms around me, I hug back for fear of the illusion shattering.

"Linen, come back!" I let go of her. Rosemary's voice calls from the fog. Gaylynn grabs me by the arm and yanks me inside.

"You can never go back," she warns and closes the door. The room is painted white, and brightly lit. To my left, a kitchen with a buffet line topped with food. To my right, several tributes play games of darts and cards. They wave at me. Pearl waves and throws a bullseye, daring Currio to throw better. Disturbingly, she's covered in parallel scar lines. Across the room is a fireplace, with a television above it. The television shows the games. Couches surround it. Most are watching with rapt attention. Adeline waves, I see the ghost of a huge gash on her neck, Mitch shares an identical scar.

"Where's Jay?" Gaylynn turns pale, but returns to normal all in the blink of an eye.

"He's in the supply room," she answers quietly, avoiding my gaze. "He's been...distant ever since he arrived."

"Does he know about...Septimus?" She returns my stare this time, but her eyes pop and snap with rage.

"No," she says, hatred discoloring her voice. "He keeps his back turned to the TV and has the sound turned off." My heart sinks. I'm willing to bet that no one has the guts to go tell him. Not even Gaylynn would want to deliver that piece of news.

"Have you been talking to Jay?"

"We haven't spoken since he arrived," she sighs. "He hasn't left the supply room at all." She notices my question before I can ask it. "It's the door on your left down by the fireplace." I thank her, and slowly walk over to the supply room. My hand touches the iron door knob. I feel unsteady. A little light-headed. It seems as if it's been years since we spoke. I take a deep breath, and turn the knob. The door swings open on silent hinges. I step inside and shut the door behind me.

Across the room is Jaylor, facing the door. He's seated at a long wooden table and perched on a barstool. To his left, a pile of finished bracelets. To his right, piles of colorful string. He is dressed in a white shirt and black pants. My heart swells with joy. He looks healthy and well-fed. But he doesn't look up. I wait patiently for him to say something. Eons later, he looks up. Parallel scar lines criss-cross his neck. His eyes shine with anticipation.

"I have your token," I stammer, holding out his bracelet. Silence chokes me. He stares at me. He doesn't move for a few moments. Then in one swift motion he stands up, knocks his stool over, and flies across the room. He throws his arms around me, ignoring the token. It takes all my strength not to cry. I swallow back the tears that threaten to flood his shoulder. We break apart. I press the token into his hand. It closes around mine.

"You're late," he smirks.

"How could you leave me?" Jay looks shocked as all of my emotions come pouring at once.

"Linen, I-"

"I watched you die," I shriek, batting his hand away. "How could you do that to me?"

"I had to," he says quietly.

"Don't you know how much it…" I'm almost overwhelmed by sheer rage and sorrow. "Don't you know how much it hurt?" By now I'm almost in tears.

"I missed you Jaylor," I whimper. "I missed you so much." He sighs and leads me to the table he was working on, which gives me just enough time to recollect my emotions. I look at the pile of bracelets.

"Jay, these bracelets are tiny," I observe. They're way too small for his wrist. They're almost child sized. But they look like they're just the right size for...me. Sure enough, when I try on a red and black one, it fits perfectly.

"They're all six and a half inches," he explains, the beginnings of a pink blush creeping up his cheeks. "Your size." In awe, I stare at the pile of bracelets. There must be twenty in all colors piled on the table. And they're all for me. Now I'm the one who's blushing.

"I just started making them," he says quietly. "I made ten before I noticed…and every time I tried to make them bigger, they'd always turn out six and a half inches." Pink and black. Green and blue. Red and white. All the colors of the rainbow will fit on my wrist. No one's ever made me jewelry, certainly not 20 bracelets.

"They're lovely," I declare, attaching the red one to my wrist. We sit in silence for a moment, before I start getting to curious.

"Where are we?"

"I'm not sure," he admits. "There's all kinds of rooms."

"I'm going to go exploring," I declare, striding towards the door.

"Enjoy it," he says wryly. I open the door. Everyone turns and looks at me. Curiosity is written across their faces.

"Where are the rest of the rooms?" Wordlessly, Adeline points to another door on the opposite wall. As everyone goes back to their normal activities, I open the door and wander into my new home.


	22. Fall of Winterfall & The Curtain Call

Adonis Winterfall was sweating. He nervously raked a spindly hand through his hair and paced the control room. The other gamemakers pretended that they couldn't feel the tension as it crackled through the stark white room. _These games are a disaster,_ he thought bitterly. _A tribute died of hypothermia! After all the_ _traps we set up!_

"Hollywhip," he snapped, the gamemaker to nearly jumped out of his white chair.

"Yes, sir?" Nestor Hollywhip nervously twisted his finger and nearly wilted under Adonis's withering gaze. Percival Hollywhip, his elder brother, shot Adonis an angry look, but knew better than to intervene.

"How many are dead?" Nestor looked rather pale as he read from his screen that 18 had been killed. Everyone held their breath as Adonis silently processed this information. His enraged outbursts were legendary.

"Adonis, maybe you should have a seat." Adonis whipped around to yell at the speaker, but paused when he saw his wife-to-be, Chamomile. Her deep brown eyes flickered with concern.

Chamomile was the only one who was competent enough to handle Adonis. Not only could she put him at ease, she could also swiftly take over the daily operations without offending him.

"I can't," he muttered nervously, his voice strained to the breaking point. "President Pine is coming." Immediately, gasps rang out through the room. Nerves seemed to snap before their eyes. Everyone knew that their jobs were all on the line. Especially Chamomile. Adonis had instructed her to lie about the malfunction, to say it was a total glitch in the program that could never happen again. But she knew better. After all, Chamomile was one of the original designers of the program. Adonis was lying to cover up that he'd overloaded the program.

"How much time do we have?" Chamomile was already pulling out her note tablet and typing at the speed of light.

"One hour," Adonis barked. Panic surged through the room like a tidal wave.

"Everyone," Chamomile shouted, quieting the noise. "You all need to have a typed report in time. Nestor, Percival, and Kordelia, you're in charge of the games till further notice." The room quickly became a hub of activity. Gamemakers frantically searched through screens of information, desperate to find what they needed. The hour flew by quickly. By the end of it, Chamomile's hair had slipped out of its elaborate tresses and into a messy bun. Adonis had paced so much that scuff marks were appearing on the floor. Everyone's nerves were frayed, and tempers were stretched to the breaking point. Then President Pine entered without fanfare. Three peacekeepers were ordered to wait outside.

In his 5 years as head gamemaker, Adonis had learned to be very afraid of President Pine. Pine was an ordinary man, only 21 years old. Coppery red hair and brown eyes made him look very simple and unassuming. Adonis knew better. Pine was cold, calculating, and extremely strict. Perfection was almost not enough. This error would not be taken lightly.

"Good afternoon," Pine said calmly, surveying the gamemakers. No one spoke. Many of the gamemakers nervously clutched thick printouts they knew Pine didn't care about. Chamomile kept her eyes to the back wall, but never directly at Pine. Adonis studied the floor intently. After several moments of silence, Chamomile spoke.

"President Pine, I'd like to-"

"Miss Birchfrond if you'd like to keep your job I'd keep quiet," he snarled, not even giving her a second glance. Chamomile immediately muttered a hasty apology as her cheeks turned pale pink. Pine's demeanor softened.

"How many are dead?" Immediately, a curly-haired girl named Delfina whipped out her report. Delfina was new this year, and determined to impress Pine.

"18 sir," she reported. Pine nodded, pacing in a small circle. Delfina sighed audibly.

"How many were killed in your out-of-control fire?" Kordelia flinched slightly. The fire had been her masterpiece. She'd spent weeks designing exactly where the flames would go.

"Only three, sir," Jet piped up, scraping a few fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair. Pine nodded again, strolling over to Adonis as if strolling through the park or art gallery.

"You have such talented people, Adonis," Pine commented, then his voice turned to an ugly snarl. "So why did the words, 'system reboot' appear in your games?" Adonis locked eyes with Pine. Mercy would not be shown to him.

"A glitch in our programming sir," he stammered, his voice hollow with fear. "It has been fixed." Pine nodded coldly.

"And this glitch," he spat. "Was it fixed?" Adonis took a deep breath. Lying was treason. But he had to.

"Yes sir," he blurted. Relief poured through him as Pine nodded and then asked Adonis who fixed it. Chamomile sucked in a ragged breath. _He knows,_ she thought. Adonis had been too hasty.

"Who fixed it?" Chamomile quickly gathered her thoughts, she knew Adonis would tell Pine it was her who fixed it.

"My fiancee, Chamomile," he answered. Chamomile locked eyes with Pine. Unlike Adonis, she'd never been afraid of Pine. She'd respected him, and served him well, but she refused to show weakness. That was what kept her climbing through the ranks, and alive.

"Miss Birchfrond, is your husband telling the truth?" Chamomile had lied to her superiors before about minor things, such as who was actually invited to a diner banquet. But never to the president.

"No," she declared. All the color drained out of Adonis's face. Pine slowly turned to face Adonis, who was giving Chamomile a look of utmost desperation. Chamomile looked away. She loved Adonis, but not as much as he loved her.

"Explain this, Chamomile," he spat, crossing his arms. Adonis saw the fury surging beneath Pine's cold demeanor.

"I designed the program," she explained. "Adonis created too many traps for the system to handle. It crashed. We lost control."

"Do you have control right now?" Pine turned back to face her. Chamomile knew she couldn't lie.

"No sir," she said. "All we control are the cameras." Pine pressed a button on his belt. Peacekeepers marched into the room without a sound.

"Take him away," Pine commanded, gesturing to Adonis. They dragged him away, kicking and screaming.

"Chamomile, you're in charge," he smiled. "Have a lovely day." And without another word, he strolled out of the room. Everyone relaxed as the doors swung shut. Not even Adonis's frantic pleas could be heard over the roar of silence.

"Let's finish this everyone," Chamomile commanded, taking her seat in Adonis's chair without a second thought. "Percival, take camera zones 1 and 2. Nestor, 3 and 4. Delphina 5 & 6\. Jet, what's the status on our traps?"

"The reboot has wiped them offline," he declared, as the room began to buzz with activity once again. "They're all used up."

"Ma'am, Thorn and Kezia are saying the games are getting dull," Kordelia announced.

"President Pine just commed me," Percival called. "We need more traps!" Chamomile muttered curses under her breath, then pulled up the comm on her tablet. Immediately, Adonis's intern jogged into the room.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Maximus, get me Electra, Gregor, and Ivan Silverswan," she barked. "They're the brightest graduates of the Presidential Academy."

"Do they know how to-?"

"It's their major," she snapped. "Now hurry up! And get your sister Ivory while you're at it."

"Yes ma'am!" Chamomile sat at her desk and watched the live broadcast. Kezia and Thorn Rookwood usually had an easy banter, but the lack of events had them silently viewing a female tribute still grieving for her friend. Chamomile had to do something, and fast.

"Kordelia!" Immediately, the purple-haired girl was at her side awaiting instructions.

"Turn on the hail," Chamomile commanded. Kordelia dashed back to her workstation. Thorn and Kezia sprang into commentary on the live broadcast as hail the size of fists fell from the sky.

"C'mon Rosemary," I say. The mood is grim as the fallen and I watch hail the size of fists hurtle out of the sky. Rosemary screams and hides under a fallen tree.

"Ooh, a chilling turn of events," Thorn jokes from onscreen. They cut to Evander and Alto hunkering down in their cave. Jewel is shown cowering in a cave that is partially underwater, her teeth chatter from the chill. North is sound asleep in a strong lean-to. Glade desperately hauls herself up a tree, her left knee useless.

"Does anyone want cookies?" Everyone jumps as Kass sets a plate of sugar cookies on the table. Adeline and Mitch sit on the loveseat, fingers laced together. Gaylynn, Ash, and Kasey sit on the couch with me. Talos, Ferris, and Sterling sit on the other couch. Crashing noises sound off from the kitchen. Jay has moved in there, and has been attempting to recreate a fancy Capitol dish for what seems like forever.

"Kass, where's the cursed vanilla?" Kass blanches slightly and runs toward the kitchen, screaming that he oughta leave her cookies alone. Behind us, Ajax curses wildly at Currio, knee deep in a game of cards. Currio cackles, and we hear the sound of cookies scraping against the table. They've been betting with baked goods ever since they realized that they'd magically replenish themselves in the pantry.

"Where's Septimus?" Everyone gives me a confused glance, then returns to watching the TV. I ask again. Gaylynn rolls her eyes and asks why I want to see him so badly.

"I'd like to apologize," I declare. Crayson, who was holding the plate of cookies, nearly drops them on the ground in shock. Gaylynn's jaw nearly breaks her kneecaps. Ash shakes her head in disagreement. Gianna shoots me a look of utter horror, as if I'm visiting the devil himself.

"You're out of your mind," Gaylynn snorts.

"Even so, I'd like to apologize," I shoot back, effectively stopping all other arguments. "Now does anyone wanna tell me where he is?" Ash stands up, and volunteers to lead me there herself. So I follow across the room, through a white door, down a narrow hall, down another hall on my left, and to a blue door.

"I've never been back here," I say.

"This is the blue room," Ash explains. "It's one of the rooms to sit and think in." She takes a very deep breath and opens the door. Sure enough, inside is a single couch, a TV, and the sprawling figure of Septimus. He sits up straight when he sees us and turns down the volume. He locks eyes with Ash.

"Hello Ash," he greets quietly. Ash has gone rather pale, but manages a polite greeting before making her exit. Septimus stares at me for a long time.

"Mind if I sit?" He nods in assent, and I join him on the couch. We watch the TV briefly. The hail has stopped. Glade and Rosemary are covered in massive cuts and bruises. Jewel's turned white from the chill. North is still asleep. Evander and Alto are unscathed.

"Funny, I thought you'd avoid me," he remarks. "Seeing as how you stabbed me in the throat." Oddly enough, this makes me feel a little better about the situation. He's at least being honest.

"I had to apologize," I remind. Septimus gives me a look of utter confusion.

"Apologize? What for?" My jaw drops in shock. Did he forget that I stabbed him?

"Uh, I stabbed you," I point out. "Murder isn't really ok." He ponders this for a moment or two.

"I attacked you. I think we can call it even. Whaddaya say?" _What? He doesn't hate me,_ I think in awe. Truly, I didn't even think he'd want to speak to me.

"Sure," I declare, holding out my hand for a shake. "We'll call it even." We shake on it, then sit in silence for a few more moments.

"Jay doesn't know you're here." I sigh, how does everyone see right through me?

"He doesn't know you attacked me," I admit. "I'm a little scared to tell him."

"So am I," Septimus chuckles, then turns contemplative again. "When I arrived, and he came out to see what all the fuss was, he looked...lost without you."

"Lost?" Jaylor certainly did not mention that. I can't imagine him being lost. He always seems to know where he's going.

"Yeah," Septimus laughs. "Your boyfriend looked very heartbroken."

"He's not…" I trail off for just a second too long, earning a raised eyebrow. "I mean… we're it's just that…I…he…I don't know." Septimus is roaring with laughter at my flustered words and bright pink cheeks.

"Seems to me that neither of you know what you're doing," Septimus howls. I lightly punch him in the shoulder.

"Shut up," I crow, failing at suppressing my giggles. We laugh and talk for a few minutes, then I ask him to join us in the main room. He laughs and then the smirk slips as he says he'd rather stay here. I say my goodbyes, and walk down the hall back to the viewing room. When I enter, everyone is leaning forward in their seats. As I take my seat next to Gaylynn I hear Thorn remark that a heated fight seems to be brewing. My eyes snap upward in time to see Evander and Alto yelling at each other. Evander is clutching his axes. Alto is gripping his spear.

"No," Ash whispers, her face the color of chalk. She misses Evander, but she wants him to win. Evander and Alto are arguing about something I must have missed.

"Alto tried to kill Glade, but Evander let her go," Gaylynn whispers. "Alto's boiling mad." Now that makes more sense.

"These two titans are fairly matched," Kezia announces, bringing up a list of stats on screen. "Alto may be thin, but he pulled a 7 in training, just one point below Evander."

"I'd say it's too close to call," Thorn agrees. "That spear is sharp, and will be good for blocking."

"But," Kezia adds, as Evander and Alto continue to yell at each other. "Those twin axes are heavy and sharp. A spear may not be able to withstand it for long." Suddenly, the yelling on screen erupts into a full-blown brawl. Ash sucks in a ragged breath as Alto thrusts in with his spear. Evander blocks and tries to disarm him. The axe slits Alto's wrist. With a howl, Alto jabs him in the shoulder. The fight continues.

Axe meets Alto's knee. Spear meets Evander's calf. Both sport massive gashes up and down their arms. Alto pulls his knife and throws it at Evander's stomach. It hits. Evander crashes to the ground, and somehow manages to pull his pistol. With a loud crack, Alto is shot in the gut. Both are in immense pain, collapsed on the ground several feet from each other. Evander still has the knife in his stomach. With a mighty effort he crawls over to Alto, Ash's tiny hatchet clutched in his hands.

"Nice knowing ya," Evander grunts, and he slams the hatchet into Alto's neck. At that exact moment, Alto rams his spear through Evander's neck. Moments later, two cannons, just seconds apart ring out through the forest. There's a knock at the door.

"That was fast," Gianna snorts as Ash runs forward with tears in her eyes. Evander and Ash collide with a long kiss that garners several hoots and whistles. Tears start making their presence known in the corners of my eyes. Evander is whispering things to Ash, who is laughing through her tears.

Jay and I exchange a quick glance. Things are different between us.

Everything and nothing is between us.

 _The End...Is Only The Beginning_


End file.
